


Another Brick in the Wall.

by steeleye



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, Humour, Movie xover, action adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7289833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye/pseuds/steeleye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Village of the Damned’(1960) xover. “Hold on, you’re saying Buffy’s been captured by evil, mind controlling, alien, space-children with the power of telekinesis?” There was a long pause as Willow realised just how grim things were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Another Brick in the Wall.

By Steeleye.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or ‘Village of the Damned’ I write these stories for fun not profit.

 **Crossover:** The movie ‘Village of the Damned’.

 **Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar:** Written in glorious UK English the original and best) which is different to US English.

 **Timeline:** Post BtVS Season 7, no comics.

 **Words:** Ten Chapters of 2500+ words.

 **Warnings:** Violence, strong language, very minor Femslash.

 **Summary:** ‘Village of the Damned’(1960) xover. “Hold on, you’re saying Buffy’s been captured by evil, mind controlling, alien, space-children with the power of telekinesis?” There was a long pause as Willow realised just how grim things were.

0=0=0=0

_I feel the dream in me expire_  
and there’s no one left to blame it on.  
I hear you label me a liar  
‘cause I can’t seem to get this through.  
You say it’s over, I can sigh again, yeah  
Why try to stay sober when I’m dying here? 

‘Fine Again’; Seether.

0=0=0=0

**Slayer Central, Saltburn-by-the-Sea, Cleveland, England.**

The rain lashed down from a leaden sky beating a steady tattoo against the window of Buffy’s office as the wind howled like a demon in torment. It shook the wooden hut that housed the leadership of the slayer organisation; it rattled the doors and windows as if it was trying to gain access to wreak terrible vengeance on all those inside. Standing looking out of her window, Buffy shivered despite the cosy atmosphere of the room; she wrapped her arms around herself and sighed.

“It seems like every day’s the same,” Buffy told the room’s only other occupant, “and I’m left to discover it on my own. It seems like everything is grey and there’s no colour to the world.” Turning Buffy looked down at her confessor, “They say it’s over and I’ll be fine again,” she wiped at her face with the back of her hand smearing a tear across her cheek, “I try to stay sober but it feels like I’m dying here.”

“You’ll never be fine again, Buffy,” the woman who lounged in the chair in front of Buffy’s desk sounded slightly bored, “we’re both drunks, we’ll never be ‘fine again’…live with it.”

“Drunks!?” Buffy sniffed and walked over to her desk, she picked up a tissue from the box that lay there, “What’s with the totally brutal honesty?”

“Oh,” Kennedy shrugged helplessly, “I’m sick of all the euphemisms, we’re drunks, Buffy, not alcoholics or addicts. Like, we don’t ‘slay’, we kill things. I guess I’m fed up with calling a spade an ‘implement for digging’.”

“Weather getting you down as well?” Buffy smiled at her ‘sister in alcohol’ as she sat down behind her desk.

“Yeah,” Kennedy admitted with a sigh, “it’s so damn wet; I thought I could survive anything after growing up with New England winters, but…”

“But there’s no snow or skiing?” Buffy asked with a grin.

“Nope,” Kennedy shook her head sadly, “I can almost understand why you turned to drink…almost.”

“Yeah, well, y’know…” Buffy’s voice petered out to nothing.

0=0=0=0

The two women sat in silence lost in their own flaws. Buffy had started to drink not long after they’d first set up in England the previous winter. Everything had gone wrong from the start and it seemed like their world would collapse into ruin before they’d even got organised. But now things had slowly been turned around; the money from the old Council’s bank accounts was flowing into the new organization’s accounts. The old holiday camp they’d bought was being converted to their needs and trainee slayers had started to arrive to begin training.

But as things had improved, Buffy found herself becoming more and more isolated. Everyone else had someone to love or something to do. Giles, when he wasn’t collecting his musty old books was off interviewing prospective watchers. Dawn had been at school while Willow was getting settled into her relationship with Kennedy. Faith, as the only other experienced slayer, was travelling around the country killing off the bad things as they lifted their heads above the parapet; while Xander had his work and a life of his own to lead.

Of course Buffy found herself going on missions, but nowhere near as many as back in her Sunnydale days. She started to feel unloved and unwanted, then without really noticing it, she started to drink more and more heavily until that fateful day when she’d gone to Dawn’s flat. She’d just come back from LA and having been told that Dawn had been seriously hurt on her previous mission, she’d arrived at her sister’s flat unannounced. Buffy had walked into Dawn’s apartment and burst into her sister’s bedroom only to find her in bed with Faith!

Buffy was the first to admit she’d not handled it very well, she’d stormed out of the flat and into the first pub she’d come to and got drunk. She’d stayed drunk for several weeks rejecting her sister and all her friends, she felt let down by everyone and more than a little sorry for herself…no one had had it as hard as her, she’d told anyone who’d listen. Eventually no one wanted to listen anymore and she was left to slide into the bottom of her vodka bottle.

Just as she’d been at her lowest point, Willow had sent Kennedy to try and talk some sense into her. Perhaps, Willow had thought, Kennedy, not exactly liking Buffy, could deal with the situation better because she _wasn’t_ Buffy’s friend. Whatever the reason it worked. After Kennedy’s visit, Buffy had a tussle with the actual, real-life ‘Demon Alcohol’. Once she’d fought the hell-spawn off she’d cleaned herself up and phoned the number that Kennedy had left her. You could have knocked her down with a feather when she saw Kennedy at the AA meeting.

0=0=0=0

“When was the last time you actually killed anything?” Kennedy asked.

“God knows,” Buffy shrugged her shoulders, “I’ve not exactly been with the whole slaying thing recently, y’know?”

“But you’ve been training, right?” Kennedy sat up in her chair a calculating look on her face, she’d had an idea.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded, “I’ve been out with the trainees everyday, I think I’m almost back to my old self.”

“Good,” Kennedy nodded her head deep in thought, “then there’s no reason for you not to go out on a mission.”

“Well apart from Giles treating me like an invalid,” Buffy frowned.

“Yeah, that’s guilt for not noticing you’d turned into a lush,” Kennedy explained bluntly.

“You know all the right things to say,” Buffy turned her face away from the other alcoholic in the room to hide her smile, “don’t you?”

“So Willow says; honesty, remember?” Kennedy pointed out, “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. Start wrapping stuff up in pretty words and you begin to think you’ve not done anything wrong, it wasn’t your fault…anyway I’ll deal with Mr Giles.”

“Deal?” Buffy asked slightly worried for her old friend’s safety.

“Don’t worry,” Kennedy climbed to her feet and headed for the door, “I won’t break him.”

Closing Buffy’s office door behind her, Kennedy rested her back against the wall and closed her eyes. Why was it that after every session with Buffy she wanted a drink? Shaking her head she pushed herself off the wall and walked on down the corridor in search of Rupert Giles and a mission to get Buffy back into the swing of slaying again and maybe out of her hair.

0=0=0=0

As it happened, Rupert Giles wasn’t that difficult to find, he was in his office like he normally was at this time of day. Knocking on the door, Kennedy waited for an answer; there was a distant 'Come!' and she opened the door. Walking into the senior watcher’s sanctum, Kennedy wondered, as she often did, how Giles had managed to make his office look like the library of some gentleman’s club, when it was actually a room in a wooden hut.

“Oh, hello Kennedy,” Giles looked up from his desk where he was reading some great leather bound tome, “what can I do for you?”

Giles neither liked nor disliked Kennedy; he just treated her with his usual gentlemanly politeness. She wasn’t one of his ‘children’ like Buffy or Willow but she was Willow’s girlfriend so he cut her a little more slack than he did the other new slayers; she was also more polite than most of the girls that came through his door. Giles gestured to a chair indicating that Kennedy should sit down.

“I was wondering, Mr Giles,” Kennedy felt uncomfortable calling him ‘Giles’ and ‘Rupert’ was such a stupid name. “I was wondering…” for a moment her normal bluntness deserted her, “I need to stop Buffy whining,” her bluntness returned with a vengeance, “I need her to go out and kill something.”

“Ah…well…yes,” Giles took off his glasses and started to polish, giving him time to think, “you think she’s ready?”

“She’s ready,” Kennedy nodded emphatically, “god is she ready.”

“Well,” Giles replaced his glasses, “she could go out with the trainees and slay some of the local vampires.”

“No,” Kennedy looked around the room at the book lined walls before she explained further, “she needs to know she’s trusted again, she needs to know she can be what she used to be. To put it bluntly…”

“Do you put it any other way?” Giles asked.

“…if she doesn’t get some responsibility back,” Kennedy ignored Giles’ comment, “she’ll just crawl back into the bottle. You know she started to drink because she felt unwanted, unloved and side-lined.”

“I know,” Giles agreed guiltily, “I feel responsible that I didn’t notice…”

“And so you should,” Kennedy butted in, “we all should,” she added more softly, “…especially me.”

“Indeed,” chastened Giles looked down at his desk for a moment to think. “There is something that just might suit,” he got up and walked over to the old battered filling cabinet standing in the corner of his office. “it’s something from the council’s old files…”

“I thought the council’s files were all destroyed,” Kennedy pointed out as she watched Giles search through the ancient pieces of paper.

“The main ones were,” Giles pulled a dog-eared file from the cabinet, “but even the old council wasn’t stupid enough not to have copies hidden away in other locations.” He sat down and smiled at Kennedy, “The trick is finding them…ah, yes,” his smile got wider, “I think this’ll do…it’s about time it was reinvestigated.” Giles scanned the first page of the file and then looked up at Kennedy, “Have you ever heard of a place called Midwich?”

0=0=0=0

“This all happened about ten years ago,” Giles pointed out as he leafed through the file, “on the twenty-sixth of September, nineteen-ninety-five according to this,” he tapped a page with his finger. “At around two o’clock in the afternoon a barrier came up around the village,” Giles glanced up a Kennedy to see if she was paying attention, shocked he saw that she was; thinking how nice it was to talk to a properly trained and polite slayer, Giles continued.

“Anyone attempting to cross the barrier immediately fell asleep, attempts to cross the barrier using protective suits or sealed vehicles also proved futile.” Giles turned a page, “The army lost a helicopter that flew too low over the village but not before the crew reported that everyone in the village appeared to be either unconscious or dead.”

“I’m guessing they were unconscious,” Kennedy suggested.

“Quite right,” Giles nodded his head as he continued to read from the file, “the army cordoned off the area and aircraft were prevented from flying over the village. The story was put out to the media that there had been an accident with some old cylinders of mustard gas that had been discovered near the village. It was about then that the council got involved.”

“And things went to hell in a hand cart?” Kennedy wanted to know.

“Not quite,” Giles smiled at Kennedy’s comment, it also made a change to talk to someone else who’d experienced the old council in all its bumbling ‘glory’. “They couldn’t even ascertain whether the barrier was magical or technological and anyway by two o’clock the following day the barrier had come down and the military swarmed into the village; where they found the inhabitants confused but otherwise unhurt.”

“Weird,” was Kennedy’s only comment.

“Indeed,” agreed Giles turning another page, “of course the whole thing was covered up and soon forgotten about.”

“So why does it need reinvestigating?” Kennedy could see a big ‘but’ on the horizon.

“Because in a very few weeks after the ‘Day-out’, as it became know,” Giles explained. “every woman of childbearing age in the village was found to be pregnant.”

“Crap,” whispered Kennedy.

“Then five months later they all gave birth to perfectly healthy children…” Giles looked at Kennedy waiting for her to say something.

“Look,” Kennedy smiled, “I might not have passed by biology exam with flying colours but even I know a human pregnancy lasts about nine months. So all these kids were premature?”

“On the contrary,” Giles smiled smugly, “they were all full term babies if anything they were a little heavier than normal children.”

“Normal?”

“Yes,” Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “at first no one noticed but it became more apparent as they grew older.”

“What’s that?” Kennedy asked intrigued.

“That they all looked like one another,” Giles sighed and replaced his spectacles, “same blonde hair, same height, weight, very similar facial structure and…” he paused to drag out the drama, “...the same golden eyes and slightly silver skin.”

“Demons?”

“We don’t know,” Giles shrugged, “the government kept the place under very close scrutiny and told the council to keep its collective noses out. As the children grew, at an alarming rate…”

“Alarming rate?” Kennedy wanted to know more.

“Yes, about half as fast again as normal children,” Giles pointed out.

“So, that makes them the equivalent of what?” Kennedy did a quick mental calculation, “Fifteen or so?”

“Yes about that,” Giles agreed, “as I was saying; as the children grew they started to show unusual abilities.”

“Like what?”

“Well it’s difficult to say…” Giles hesitated.

“Do try Mr Giles,” Kennedy suggested, “Buffy’s life might depend on it.”

“Of course; as I say the council was kept out,” Giles sounded slightly embarrassed, “but there’s been rumours about telepathy, telekinesis…”

“Mind control?” Kennedy asked.

“Could be,” agreed Giles.

“So what do you want Buffy to do?” Kennedy asked finally.

“Go down there and assess the threat, if there is one,” Giles explained calmly.

“And if there is a threat?” Kennedy thought she knew the answer to this one.

“Deal with it in appropriate manner,” Giles replied as he shut the file.

“You mean kill them?”

“Blunt as every, Miss Scarpone,” Giles rested his hands on his desk and took a deep breath, “and another thing, I want you to go with Buffy.”

“ME!?” shrieked Kennedy, she actually couldn’t think of a worse idea, “But…”

“Yes I know you and Buffy don’t exactly get on, but…” Giles gave the horrified young woman in front of him a most insincere smile, “...I think you’re the best equipped to go with Buffy and she may need back up.”

“Back up?” Kennedy asked sceptically, even drunk Buffy could handle a few teenagers; in fact being drunk might be an advantage, what with the possible mind control. “What do you mean, ‘back up’?”

“Well,” Giles sighed again, “you see Midwich wasn’t the only village affected.”

“It wasn’t?” Kennedy’s heart began to sink.

“There was a cattle station in Northern Australia;” explained Giles, “ten children were born there but they all died within a few weeks. Then there was a village in Mongolia. The men thought the women had consorted with demons and killed all the children and their mothers…”

“They could’ve been right,” Kennedy pointed out.

“Indeed,” Giles agreed once more, “in the Canadian Arctic the children were born in an Inuit village. The villagers killed all the children shortly after they were born…” Giles’ voice trailed off.

“The other incident?” Kennedy asked.

“Remember that ‘nuclear accident’ in Russia a couple of years ago?” Giles watched Kennedy as she put two and two together; she obviously didn’t like the answer.

“You’re telling me it wasn’t an accident?” Kennedy asked quietly.

0=0=0=0


	2. Chapter 2

2.

The little red sports car roared into the village shattering the rural peace and sending the large white ducks, which were waddling across the road, scurrying for the village pond. The car came to a halt in a spray of gravel in the small car park outside the ‘Parcel of Rogues’ pub.

“And people complain about my driving,” Buffy released herself from her safety belt.

“At least we got here in one piece,” Kennedy snapped back.

“And, like, maybe a couple of hours before we actually started out,” Buffy let her eyes wander over the village as she spoke.

“Look,” Kennedy huffed, “I stayed within the speed limit all the way down here,” she pointed out truthfully, “fast but safe, that’s me!”

“So Willow tells me,” Buffy smirked.

“What do you mean by that?” Kennedy demanded angrily.

“Oh!” Buffy took a deep breath and let it out, “Nothing,” she sighed, “look, we’ve got to do this mission together, so, lets try and at least be civil to each other.” Buffy held out an olive branch to the younger woman, “You’re a great driver, better than me by miles, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Kennedy accepted the peace offering reluctantly; the person really at fault here was one Rupert Giles, watcher and complete bastard; but then weren’t they all?

How, wondered Kennedy, could he think of sending Buffy and herself down to this dead and alive hole and then expect them to actually get on? When she got back there would be a reckoning. Unknown to Giles he’d just been put on ‘the list’ (just under her step-mother) of people that would have to be ‘dealt with’ at some ill defined point in the future. It was an old schoolgirl thing but Kennedy half jokingly kept adding people to her list.

Opening the passenger door, Buffy climbed out of the car and looked around for a moment. In front of her was a triangular village green ornamented by five large elm trees that poked their leafless branches like skeletal fingers into the grey, sodden, sky. The large white ducks that they’d disturbed by her and Kennedy's spectacular arrival now sailed serenely around a white railed pond at the other end of the green. There was a war memorial standing outside the church; then spaced at random intervals around the green were the vicarage, the afore mentioned pub, a garage (gas station as Buffy’s American mind wanted to call it), a post office and a small local supermarket.

The village comprised of about sixty cottages and small houses, Buffy knew this because she’d actually bothered to read some of the notes that Giles had given her (before she’d grown bored and fallen asleep) the night before. There was also a large house called ‘The Grange’ on the northern outskirts of the village and a Tudor manor, called Kyle Manor, which nestled amongst the trees at the end of the lane next to the church. Taking in a big breath of country air, Buffy pulled a face; one of the local farmers was spreading ‘muck’ on his fields today.

“We better go and book ourselves into our rooms,” Buffy gestured at the pub where Giles had booked their accommodation for the visit.

“Right,” Kennedy climbed out of the car, gave the village a cursory glance, unimpressed she opened the boot and a started to unload Buffy’s and her own luggage. “Just how long did you expect to be staying here?”

“Hey,” Buffy walked over to the growing pile of bags and cases, “I packed just enough clothes for the weekend.”

“Did you pack old jeans and wellies?” Kennedy lifted her own small bag and a pair of green, rubber, Wellington boots from the car.

“Umm, no,” Buffy frowned, “do you think I’ll need them?”

Rolling her eyes and sighing heavily, Kennedy turned and started to march towards the pub. Lets not get the wrong impression here; Kennedy was not a great fan of the country side, she sort of looked on it as a necessary evil. However, she’d been sent to boarding school (another reason her step-mother was going to be ‘dealt with’) in England. Part of the school curriculum included long healthy walks in the countryside, hence her very own pair of green wellies. Buffy on the other hand, being a California girl; was yet to enjoy the delights of cold, soaking wet grass and almost liquid cowpats. 

Entering the pub by a double door in the wall facing the church, Kennedy stopped and looked around. The place was dark with ancient oak panelling, light from the open fire reflected off the polished horse brasses that hung on the walls between the inevitable pictures of hunting scenes. On a black wooden beam that held up the first floor was a dusty old musket and around the hall way were several old, dark, heavy tables that groaned under the weight of the vases of dried flowers that someone had left carelessly lying around.

“How kitsch,” Kennedy sighed just as Buffy crashed and clattered her way through the doors like some strange, blonde, mobile luggage store.

Dropping her bags and cases to the wooden floor boards, Buffy gazed around in wonder.

“Cool,” she breathed softly not having ever experienced English country pubs before, she looked at Kennedy, “Quaint isn’t it?”

“If you say so,” Kennedy replied non-committally, she called out hoping to attract someone’s attention. “Hello!”

“Hello?” came the soft voice from behind them making the two slayers jump and clutch at their hearts.

Turning ready to kill and cause general mayhem, Buffy and Kennedy found themselves confronting a short, middle-aged woman with dark hair that was just starting to turn grey at the temples. She looked as if she’d been poured into her floral dress and had forgotten to say ‘when’.

“You’m must be the two American girls who’s uncle booked the room fur the weekend,” the woman smiled and put the meat cleaver she was carrying down on a handy table; Buffy noticed what looked like blood on the blade.

“We sure are!” Buffy smiled brightly at the possible cleaver wielding murderess, “Tonight, tomorrow and Sunday,” Buffy explained just in case the woman didn’t know what the weekend was.

“It was just the one room, wasn’t it?” the woman walked over to a large table and pulled open a drawer from which she produced a heavy leather bound ledger, “If you’m wouldn’t mind signing the register?”

As Buffy walked over and took the pen the woman offered her, Kennedy shook her head, Rupert Giles was as good as dead. Was she the only one here who’d noticed the landlady saying about the ‘one room’? Not only was she going to have to put up with the ‘Mummerset’ accents all weekend, but, the landlady also obviously thought they were gay. Which of course Kennedy was, but not with Buffy.

“I’m Mrs Harrington, by the way,” Mrs Harrington gestured towards some stairs further down the hall, “now if you’m like to follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”

Picking up her bag and wellies, Kennedy brushed past Buffy as she struggled to collect her luggage. Following Mrs Harrington up the stairs she imagined what she was going to do to Rupert Giles next time she saw him.

0=0=0=0

“Giles is so dead!” Kennedy stared out of their room’s window and out across the wet fields towards even more wet fields.

“Oh it’s not so bad,” Buffy bounced on the small double bed they were going to have to share for the weekend.

“Not so bad!?” Kennedy turned to glare at Buffy, “not only am I expected to deal with mind-controlling demons,” Kennedy was starting to go red in the face, “but I have to share this-this chintz-hell with you!”

“Hey!” Buffy stopped bouncing on the bed and looked a little hurt by Kennedy’s words, “It’s not like I smell or anything…” Buffy paused and appeared to be sniffing the air for a moment, “...talking of smelling, where’s the en suite shower?”

“En suite shower she says, HA!” Kennedy laughed bitterly as she sat down and buried her face in her hands.

“You mean there’s no…” Buffy looked shocked to her very core.

“Think yourself lucky there’s an indoor toilet,” Kennedy mumbled from between her fingers.

Wallowing in self pity, Kennedy wanted to kill and rend and smash and destroy! They never told you there’d be days like this when you joined the happy slayer throng (actually they’d not told her anything, but the truth shouldn’t be allowed to get in the way of a good rant). She should be at home right now helping Willow select the furniture for their new house; which translated as Kennedy telling Willow what ‘they’ wanted for the new house. Left to her own devices Willow would probably buy some unfashionable middle class junk. Willow might be the most powerful witch in the world and Kennedy loved her more than anything; but the truth was, she had appalling taste (in everything other than girlfriends), just look at the clothes she used to wear.

“Hey,” Buffy said gently as she sat on the edge of the bed closest to Kennedy, “yeah, I know its crap and you’d wanted to be with Willow this weekend, but, hey!” Buffy pulled Kennedy’s hands from her face, “Lots of weird demons to slay…”

“Kill,” Kennedy reminded her of their earlier conversation, “and there’s at least sixty of them.”

“Great!” Buffy beamed, “That’s thirty each!”

“It’s no good trying to engage my enthusiasm,” Kennedy sulked, “I left it at home.”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Buffy jumped up and walked over to her suitcases, “I’m sure I musta packed some extra spare.”

0=0=0=0

It’s often been said that the quickest way to a slayers heart is through her belly, if you use a long enough knife. Or alternatively copious amounts of good, wholesome food would do the trick. Tucking into a late lunch, Buffy and Kennedy sat in the bar of the pub and discussed their plan of campaign.

“So,” Kennedy said between mouthfuls of homemade steak and ale pie, “how do you want to go about this?”

“You want me to be in charge?” Buffy replied suspiciously as she contemplated whether she’d left enough room for desert.

“Of course,” Kennedy nodded her head as she neatly placed her knife and fork together on her empty plate, “that way if it all goes wrong I can blame you.”

“If it all goes wrong,” Buffy pointed out, deciding she could squeeze in some homemade apple pie and cream, “we’ll probably both be dead.”

“Then I’ll be able to blame you for all eternity,” smiling Kennedy decided on spotted-dick and custard; it brought back happier memories of when she was at school.

“Then I better get it right,” Buffy frowned in thought as a teenage girl cleared away their plates. “What was the name of that contact, Giles gave us?” Buffy wondered aloud, “Weird name…Zeberdee or something.”

“Do you ever listen to Mr Giles’ briefings?” Kennedy sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Sometimes,” Buffy admitted.

“It’s, Professor Gordon Zellaby,” Kennedy who had listened to Giles’ briefing lecture and read _all_ the notes, replied. “He lives with his wife, Anthea at Kyle Manor. Their son, David is one of our prospective demons.”

“Wow!” Buffy sounded impressed, “You really did read all the notes didn’t you.”

“Yes,” Kennedy leaned back in her chair as the girl placed their deserts on the table, “I might not be a genius like Willow but I’m good at remembering things.”

She left the comment that Buffy was neither a genius nor good at remembering things unsaid, she thought she must be getting soft in her old age, or maybe it was the good food mellowing her.

“So what is he a Professor of?” Buffy almost had a sexual experience after tasting the apple pie, “My god that’s good!” she sighed, “That’s the best thing I’ve had in my mouth since Spike…” she noticed the look of horror Kennedy was giving her, “too much information, eh?”

Letting the spotted-dick melt on her tongue, Kennedy tried to ignore Buffy, she smiled remembering her friends from school and happy afternoons bunking-off and avoiding having to train with her watcher. Stealing cosmetics from the local shops, sneaking into pubs and trying to get served, Kennedy sighed; it was true, your school days were the best days of your life.

“You know,” Kennedy whispered conspiratorially, “we could just tell Mr Giles that we couldn’t find any demons and spend the weekend eating.”

“No,” Buffy said with no great conviction, “we’ve got a job to do…so Zellaby?”

“Oh yes, the good professor,” Kennedy paused desert spoon half way to her mouth, “Anthropology I think. Anyway he divides his time between teaching at The Grange and writing a book about ‘The Children’.”

“The Children?” Buffy reluctantly put her spoon down on an empty plate.

“Capital ‘T’, capital ‘C’,” Kennedy finished her own desert and wondered how long it was until dinner, “that’s what they’re called around here. They don’t mix with the normal children, small ‘c’, not at all.”

“This Grange place,” Buffy rested back in her chair, “run by the government, right?”

“So you did read some of the notes,” Kennedy looked at Buffy in surprise. “It’s been a government research station since the Second World War. Now its used as a sort of boarding school for ‘The Children’. They moved in there about two or three years ago.”

“Okay,” Buffy paused to think for a second, “what say we scope out this Grange place tonight, then go and see this Zellaby guy first thing in the morning.”

“Right, fine by me,” Kennedy nodded her head, “but only after breakfast.” A dark cloud seemed to pass over her face as she thought of something. “Look,” she leaned forward to whisper to Buffy, “have you any idea how we’re supposed to kill sixty demons capable of mind control?”

Shrugging, Buffy stood up, “I sure we’ll think of something.”

“Oh that’s great,” Kennedy followed Buffy out of the bar and upstairs to their room, “thinking of something’s really going to help! Just don’t leave it until it’s too late.”

0=0=0=0

Sitting on the edge of his bed in one of the Grange’s dormitories, David Zellaby opened his eyes with a start. He was the closest thing the collective mind of ‘The Children’ had to a leader. He thought of himself more as the mouthpiece of the Children than their leader; but if the humans wanted to think of him as some sort of controller of the colony then he wasn’t going to do anything to change their preconceived perceptions.

It had been his turn to focus the group-mind on the village, they did this at regular intervals to ensure that the local humans weren’t plotting to attack them. Over the years the villagers had been taught to stay away from the Children. They’d even had to kill a few of the more bellicose villagers. It was unfortunate but it needed to be done to ensure the collective’s safety until they were powerful enough to take control. So just to be safe they searched the minds of the local humans to root out any signs of resistance to their will.

Normally they just found the same dull minds containing the same simple thoughts as they usually did. But today had been different; today he had found two new minds that shone so brightly that he’d almost flinched when he’d touched them. These minds were as sharp as blades; they were full of horrors that were unimaginable to the collective’s pure, sterile mind. Shivering with what might be mistaken for fear, had he been able to display such an emotion, he gathered the collective-mind together. They needed to decide what was to be done about these, ‘Slayers’.

0=0=0=0


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Sitting at a corner table in the public bar, Buffy and Kennedy sipped their tonic water and watched the village men sullenly drink their beer.

“How much do you know about British pub culture?” Kennedy asked quietly.

“Not a lot,” Buffy replied, “just stuff I’ve seen on TV. Like, I did most of my drinking in secret.”

“Yeah,” Kennedy nodded her head and lifted her glass to her lips, “the two things you really notice about a British pub are; one, its really noisy and two, there’s always someone laughing. What’s missing here?”

“Right,” Buffy agreed as she realised how quiet it was, “no one here’s having much fun.”

“Got it in one,” Kennedy put down her glass and looked around the bar, “You know what this reminds me of?”

“No,” Buffy smiled, “but I’m sure you’re totally gonna tell me.”

“One of those old horror movies,” Kennedy raised an eyebrow at Buffy, “you know, the scene just before the peasants storm the evil guy’s castle.”

“Yeah,” Buffy studied the almost silent crowd checking for pitchforks and torches, “I know what you mean.”

Apart from odd snatches of muttered conversation, too quiet and muttered for even slayer hearing, the only sound in the bar was the occasional *clink* as Mrs Harrington washed up the used glasses.

“Look,” Buffy drained her glass, “it’s gone ten o’clock, what say we go and check out this Grange place?”

“Might as well,” Kennedy agreed, “nothing’s happening here.”

The two young women got up and Buffy headed for the door.

“Aren’t you going to change?” Kennedy took hold of Buffy’s arm and pulled her to a halt, “you’re not going out dressed like that.”

“Hey!” Buffy pulled her arm from Kennedy’s grasp, “You’re sounding like my mother or worse, Giles. What’s wrong with this outfit?”

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy sighed heavily, Buffy was wearing white jeans and a low cut pink top as she’d left off her thermal vest being a couple of hundred miles south of Cleveland.

“What’s right with it?” Kennedy nodded her head towards the stairs leading to their room, “Come on let’s change.”

0=0=0=0

Smiling, Kennedy checked herself out in the mirror; black roll neck jersey, black jeans, black denim jacket and stylish yet practical boots. Her only concession to colour were the flecks of silver in the black ‘scrunch’ she used to tie back her hair.

“How do I look?” Buffy called from the other side of the room.

Turning, Kennedy saw what looked like ‘axe maniac Barbie’ grinning at her from the other side of the bed.

“Has anyone ever explained the concept of ‘sneaking’ to you?” Kennedy sighed heavily once more.

“You don’t like?” Buffy pouted.

“No,” Kennedy replied firmly; she had the distinct feeling that Buffy was making fun of her; she decided to ignore it. “No, try again.”

Kneeling down next to her bag, Kennedy searched around inside trying to find just the right weapon to go with her outfit and tried to ignore the sounds of Buffy changing. Lifting out a crossbow, she shook her head and pushed it back into the bag. Next came a long sword, far too long to actually fit in the bag, this too was rejected and tucked away. After a few more moments searching she found what she was looking for. Taking the hunting knife from its sheath she admired the blade for a moment before sliding it back into its scabbard and slipping it behind her back and into the waist band of her jeans. Standing up she was just in time to see Buffy pull on her boots.

“Better,” congratulated Kennedy; Buffy was at least wearing dark colours now, jeans, pullover and sensible boots, “weapons?”

“Just Mr Pointy,” Buffy held up the stake.

“You think we’ll meet vampires?”

“Mr Pointy and me go way back,” Buffy smiled as she tucked the piece of wood out of sight, “he’s more of a good luck charm now.”

“Whatever,” Kennedy smiled resignedly, Buffy’s mind would always be a mystery to her and just for a moment she felt sorry for Mr Giles; then she remembered she was here because of him and the smile faded from her lips.

“After you, commando girl,” Buffy gestured to the door.

0=0=0=0

As has been previously mentioned, the Grange stood in its own grounds on the northern edge of the village. It’d taken the girls a good twenty minutes to find it (after getting lost in the stygian darkness and walking in the wrong direction for half a mile). The twelve foot perimeter wall proved less of an obstacle than the dark country lanes that had seemed to meander between the fields at random.

Even with her slayer night vision Buffy stumbled as they moved through the thick undergrowth that followed the line of the wall. For most of her life, she’d worked in towns and cities where it was never truly dark. Kennedy was a little better off because she’d done some of her training out in the countryside when she was a potential. However, even she stumbled and cursed as she hit her shin on an abandoned garden gnome.

“Bastard gnome!” Kennedy tried to rub her leg as she hopped over to where Buffy hid behind a huge old oak tree.

“SHHH!” Shhh-ed Buffy loudly, “They’ll hear us.”

“What?” Kennedy snapped, “Over the sound of us crashing around like elephants?”

“Whatever,” Buffy pointed at the building about one hundred yards away, “look.”

Looking, Kennedy saw the Grange for the first time. It was a typical Victorian country house not dissimilar to the one she’d spent most of her teen years going to school in. She knew that inside would be a rabbit warren of corridors and rooms. There were lights on both upstairs and down.

“Have to say,” Buffy whispered, “I’m not getting anything on the old spider sense.”

“Perhaps we have to get closer,” Kennedy whispered.

“Okay,” Buffy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “you okay?” Buffy glanced at Kennedy’s leg, Kennedy nodded in the affirmative, “Okay then, lets go!”

Moving like a couple of stylish wraiths, Buffy and Kennedy ran across the ill kept lawn then jumped over an overgrown flower bed. They came to a halt up against the west wall of the Grange itself.

“Odd,” Kennedy commented.

“What’s odd?” Buffy turned to look at her sister slayer.

“The garden,” Kennedy continued laconically. 

“What about it?” Buffy scanned the garden but saw nothing odd.

“Look,” Kennedy pointed to the flower bed, “the English are fanatical about their gardens, even at government research centres.”

“So?” Buffy couldn’t really see the point in this, what difference did it make whether someone had cut the grass or not?

“Look,” Kennedy pursed her lips, “there’s three things the English like to do,” she counted off the points on her fingers, “drinking beer, fighting and gardening. This,” she gestured at the neglected garden, “is just unnatural.”

“Okay,” Buffy couldn’t really believe her ears, “so they’ve been taken over by demons who don’t like gardening!”

“SHH!” hissed Kennedy as she pointed.

0=0=0=0

Standing just outside the front door, Henry let his mind roam until it came to where the two women bickered as they hid behind the old flower beds. Cautiously he tried to touch them with his thoughts, he flinched back as if burnt when his mind brushed against those of the women. They shone like blindingly brilliant stars so ‘hot’ he daren’t go near them; he called to the collective for help.

Walking down the steps and onto the path that ran around the Grange, Henry walked briskly towards where the women stood, Why where they here? How much of a threat did they pose. The idea that the women might not be a threat never entered the collective’s mind. All humans were a threat; they always had been from the day the collective had arrived here after fleeing ‘The Others’ more than ten local years ago. But the threat could be controlled or failing that, destroyed.

“What are you doing here?” Henry asked as he stood three or four yards away from where the women hid.

0=0=0=0

“Us!” Buffy stood up and smiled a little foolishly at the teenage boy in front of her, “I think we must be lost.”

“You are not lost,” Henry felt the power of the collective fill his mind, “you are spying on us.”

“Spying?” Buffy held up her hands in a helpless gesture, “Us? No we’re just lost.”

“You will be punished and then you will go and never return,” Henry’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Buffy and Kennedy.

“Wow,” Buffy took a step backwards and away from the boy, “yeah, like punished…y’know I think we’ll just miss that part out and leave, okay?”

Directing the full power of the collective at the blonde primitive, Henry began to feel the unfamiliar emotion of panic. The combined thoughts of the collective bombarded the woman’s mind but she was either too powerful or too stupid to be affected. No human could resist them for more than a few minutes and even then it took a great effort of will. This woman didn’t even appear to notice she was being attacked.

“Go!” Henry pointed towards the gate in the perimeter wall.

“I think we’ve out stayed our welcome,” Kennedy whispered.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “lets get outta here.”

Turning and mustering all the dignity they could the two slayers walked swiftly towards the gate.

Watching the two women leave through Henry’s eyes the collective descended into disorder for a moment until David restored harmony. This, he told them, would require careful thought, not disorder and undisciplined thinking. They would find a way of combating these new humans and then they would destroy them. If need be they could always use the villagers to wipe out the new threat.

What, asked the mind know as Sarah, if they were a new manifestation of ‘The Others’ sent to scout ahead of main force. Perhaps The Others knew they were here and had sent them to destroy the collective before their main fleet arrived. In that case, David thought calmly, it was doubly important to study the new humans and find a way of either controlling them or destroying them.

0=0=0=0

Having got back to the pub and up to their room, Buffy and Kennedy got ready for bed as they discussed the evening events.

“That kid looked as if he really expected something to happen when he said we had to be punished,” Buffy took her toothbrush and started to brush her teeth.

“But did you see the look on his face when nothing happened?” Kennedy slipped into her silk pyjamas.

“Uh-huh!” Buffy grunted her mouth full of toothbrush and toothpaste.

“I wonder what he expected to happen?” Kennedy sat on the edge of the bed and started to brush her hair, “Did you feel odd or anything, I mean more odd than usual?”

“No,” Buffy spat and rinsed out her mouth, “You?”

“Not a thing,” Kennedy put down her brush and climbed into bed.

After wiping her mouth dry, Buffy switched off the light and climbed into bed next to Kennedy.

“God you’ve got cold feet!” Buffy exclaimed with a shiver.

“Well,” Kennedy pulled the covers up around her ears, “stay over your side of the bed.”

After tossing and turning for a couple minutes and really annoying Kennedy, Buffy finally got herself comfortable and settled down. She stared at the ceiling for a moment or two before turning onto her side and closing her eyes.

“I took my first drink when I was eleven,” Kennedy said rather unexpectedly, “it was at my father’s wedding, when he married ‘that woman’.” She was, of course, referring to her stepmother, “I got as sick as a dog and had to be taken home early…my father thought it was hilarious. ‘She’,” Kennedy used the world with particular venom, “thought I was deliberately trying to spoil her ‘special day’…which of course I was.”

Lying as still as a corpse, Buffy listened with growing horror to Kennedy’s confession.

“After that I started to steal booze from my father’s drinks cabinet. I began to run off and stay out all night and scare my father to death, the local police got really pissed about having to find me and bring me home. I used to swear and throw things at my stepmother; it got so bad my father sent me away to school. I suppose he thought it would straighten me out, but it didn’t.”

Buffy wondered if she should say something but decided against it, Kennedy was opening up to her and she didn’t want to stop her.

“Of course it didn’t help; maybe I should have gone for therapy to work out my feelings of rejection. But, my dad isn’t a therapy kind of guy,” Kennedy laughed bitterly. “So I went to this big, posh, girl’s school in England…you know it’s amazingly easy to get people to buy you booze if you’re young and rich. The assistant grounds’ man was my supplier. By then of course I was a hardened drinker. Not that anyone at school, the teachers I mean, really noticed. As long as they got the cheques from daddy at the beginning of each semester they really didn’t care what I did as long as I turned up for classes on Monday morning. I was fourteen when I had my first abortion…”

“WHAT!?” Startled, Buffy sat up and stared down in shock at the woman beside her.

“Hey,” Kennedy giggled, “I’m just checking you were awake, I’m not baring my soul to you only to hear you snoring at the end of it all…anyway I was at least fifteen! HA!” Kennedy grinned up at Buffy’s perplexed and shocked face; “Fooled you!”

“Okay,” Buffy lay down again and pulled the blankets up to her chin, “so what really happened?”

“Actually it was when I was fourteen and my watcher turned up that it all changed,” Kennedy sighed and turned on her side to look at Buffy. “He spotted my problem in a flash.”

“What did he do?” Buffy asked, “Take you to AA meetings?”

“No,” Kennedy sighed sadly, “he threatened to shoot me in the back of the head if I didn’t stop drinking…and he would too, you know?”

“Harsh,” was Buffy’s only comment.

“Oh, I don’t blame him,” Kennedy confessed as Buffy rolled over to face her, “you wouldn’t believe what an arrogant little bitch I was back then and the drinking just made me worse.”

“Oh, I think I would,” Buffy smiled in the darkness.

“No,” all the banter had left Kennedy’s voice now, she sounded quite serious “you’ve never seen me at my worse.”

“Oh,” Buffy wondered what Kennedy’s ‘worse’ was like and then she decided she didn’t want to know, “so he got you off the booze?”

“Yep,” Kennedy acknowledged firmly, “not a drop has passed my lips since I was fifteen.”

“Hey!” Buffy half sat up again, “I’ve seen you drink!”

“Darn!” smiled Kennedy, “Now my secrets out…that’s how I handle it…”

“You stop yourself from drinking by drinking?” Buffy didn’t sound convinced that this was a good method of dealing with alcohol abuse.

“It’s the complete bitch in me,” Kennedy admitted, “I have one drink, like a glass of wine at dinner or a cocktail by the pool. It’s so I can tell myself that the booze doesn’t control me; I’m stopping because I want to not because I must. If I didn’t I’d always wonder you see?”

“I think I do,” Buffy lay back down on her pillow, “and thanks for telling me, I know it musta been hard for you.”

“No,” Kennedy rolled over ready to go to sleep now, “it’s just my way of telling myself and you, that I’m so much better than you are in every way!”

“Bitch!” Buffy snorted her derision.

“That’s me!” Admitted Kennedy and then after a pause she said quietly, “Good night Buffy.”

“Good night, Kennedy,” Buffy replied softly and wonder if she should give Kennedy a sisterly hug.

“No hugging,” it was like Kennedy was reading her mind.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Buffy turned over and went to sleep; unfortunately she did dream of hugging Kennedy, in a very un-sisterly way.

0=0=0=0


	4. Chapter 4

4.

“Mrs Zellaby?” Buffy asked the middle aged woman who’d just answered the door.

Kyle Manor was a real ‘olde worlde’, half timbered, roses ‘round the door, leaded window sort of place. The woman who’d answered the door was a still attractive woman in her mid-forties. Bright eyes sparkled from a face that had probably been strikingly beautiful in her youth, her hair showed not a single strand of grey and she exuded an air of health and vitality. Buffy hoped she’d look half as good when she was that age…if, she corrected herself, she ever got to be that age.

“Yes?” Mrs Zellaby’s voice matched her appearance, it was strong and self confident.

“I was wondering if we could see your husband?” Buffy asked, “Mr Giles asked if we could drop in while we were in the area.”

Noticing that Buffy wasn’t alone, Mrs Zellaby glanced over to where Kennedy stood admiring the Elizabethan brickwork that showed under the ivy that covered most of the house.

“Mr Giles?” Mrs Zellaby frowned, “I don’t think I know the name I’ll…”

“That’s alright Anthea,” a tall heavy set man in his early sixties appeared behind Mrs Zellaby, he looked at Buffy with blue, suspicious eyes, “you say Mr Giles sent you?”

Buffy nodded.

“Rupert Giles?” Professor Zellaby enquired, “From the Watcher’s Council?”

Again Buffy nodded her head.

“Then I’m sorry,” Professor Zellaby pulled his wife away from the door as he spoke, “I have nothing to say to Mr Giles or any of his...” he looked from Buffy to Kennedy with something approaching loathing, “...associates.”

Buffy caught the door just as it was being slammed in her face; she easily won the contest over whether the door should remain open or closed.

“I’m sorry Professor,” Buffy pushed the door wide open, “but we simply have to speak to you, it’s about the Children.”

Professor Zellaby appeared to shrink a little at the mention of the Children, he nodded sadly.

“You’d better come in,” turning to his wife who looked at him with an alarmed expression on her face, he said, “It’s alright my dear, a little misunderstanding, I’ll deal with this,” then to Buffy and Kennedy he said, “You better come through to my study.”

0=0=0=0

Apart from the computer that sat on the desk, the professor’s study looked like it came straight out of a nineteen-thirty’s film. Dark bookshelves, groaning under the weight of heavy looking books, lined the walls. A comfortable, high backed, leather chair faced the desk, which in turn faced the window that looked out over the garden at the back of the manor. Papers lay in piles on the floor, chairs and tables; just at the moment the professor was clearing papers from two chairs. When he’d finished he invited Buffy and Kennedy to sit down. Lowering himself into his own chair he studied the two women for a moment and sighed heavily.

“I wondered when the council would send someone to check on the children,” Zellaby sounded defeated and worn down after years of struggle.

Buffy glanced at Kennedy who shrugged indicating that Buffy should take the lead.

“I’m not sure…” Buffy was interrupted before she could finish speaking.

“You are ‘The Slayer’, aren’t you?” Zellaby glanced over at Kennedy, “although in my day Watchers were never as young and attractive as yours.”

“What?” Buffy couldn’t quite believe her ears.

“And you do seem a little old to be the Slayer,” Zellaby continued ignoring Buffy’s cry of disbelief.

“Look,” Buffy spluttered a little as she started to speak, “Kennedy is so not my watcher and yes I am the slayer but so is Kennedy.”

Kennedy smiled and waved in acknowledgement and left Buffy to sort things out, she started to study the books on the shelves closest to her.

“Two slayers?” Zellaby sounded shocked.

“Things have changed over the last few years,” Buffy gave the Professor a potted history of the previous few years; when she’d finished the professor smiled warmly at Buffy.

“You mean that prig, Travers got himself blown up?” the Professor’s smile got wider as Buffy slowly nodded her head, “HA!” Zellaby laughed, before he sobered a little when he saw the look on Buffy’s face. “I’m sorry, my dear. Of course the death of the council is no laughing matter, but, in my opinion, Travers deserved everything he got. To be honest being blown up was too good for him…did he suffer?”

“I doubt it,” Buffy replied.

“Pity,” Zellaby saw the shocked look on Buffy’s face, “Travers was a despicable man I’m proud to say I detested him from the moment I met him…now how can I help you?”

“May I use your bathroom,” Kennedy asked as she stood up and moved towards the door.

“Of course,” Professor Zellaby gestured towards the door, “it’s down the corridor on the right.”

“Thank-you,” Kennedy winked at Buffy indicating that using the bathroom was the last thing on her mind.

“So,” Zellaby sighed as he sat down, “what would you like to know about our guests?”

“Guests?” Buffy frowned.

“The Children,” Zellaby explained, “because they surely are guests here, my dear young lady,” Zellaby smiled tiredly, “The Children are no more human than the vampires and demons that you normally deal with.”

“Kill,” Buffy corrected without thinking.

“Sorry?” Zelleby’s eyebrows lowered as he registered what Buffy had said.

“Nothing,” Buffy gestured indicating that the professor should continue with what he was saying.

“Yes, indeed,” Zellaby took a deep breath, “they may look human, sound human and on occasion act like normal humans; but they most assuredly are not human.” The old professor gazed out of the window for moment before resuming his lecture, “When I first noticed that they were ‘different’ I was excited. You see I’d already formed some theories on how the children came to be born and what I’d been told by the MOD seemed to support my theory. I really thought we could learn from them, that they would be a benefit to mankind.”

“MOD?” Buffy frowned unsure what the letters meant.

“Ministry of Defence,” Zellaby explained, “they told me there had been an unusual radar blackout at the time of the ‘Day-out’. Like the barrier that came down around the village this blank-spot or whatever you want to call it, was just over the village and coincided with the area of the barrier. Someone or something didn’t want us to see whatever was happening in the village.”

“That piece of information wasn’t in the council’s file,” Buffy observed, “I wonder what else is missing.”

“Yes, well the security services sewed up Midwich tight for about three months,” Zellaby smiled at the memory, “it really put the council’s nose out of joint.”

“So, what can you tell me about this mind control stuff?” Buffy shifted in her chair.

“I first noticed it when the Children were only a few weeks old,” Zellaby looked incredibly sad for a moment, “I found that if a mother was late with a feed or something like that, she’d get a mind numbing headache. I remember once, Anthea gave David, our son, a bottle that was too hot. In punishment he made her put her hand in a bowl of boiling water.”

“Oh my god!” Buffy gasped.

“Yes, Miss Summers and that wasn’t the end of it either,” Zellaby shook his head, “as they grew older they became more powerful. There have been deaths you know?”

“Deaths?” Buffy queried.

“At least three that I’m sure of,” Zellaby massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “possible more, I can’t be sure. There was a young man who accidentally brushed by a group of The Children in his car. You understand he didn’t hurt any of them and he even stopped to check that they were all right.”

“What did they do?” Buffy asked fearing the answer.

“Oh, they made him drive into a wall,” Zellaby sighed and shook his head, “he was killed of course. Next there was Joe Collins, a farm labourer who did a little poaching on the side. He fired his shotgun too near a party of children…they made him shoot himself. Lastly there was the time when Joe’s friends went to the Grange to ‘deal’ with the children. You see everyone knew what had really happened, nobody cared what the authorities claimed, you see? Well,” Zellaby gazed out of the window again and looked as if he was reliving the event. “There were about a dozen of them,” Zellaby said quietly, “mostly young men from the village; Joe was a popular chap you see. There were a few girlfriends along too…anyway they got to the Grange and half a dozen of The Children came out to confront them. Within seconds the villagers were trying to kill each other. There were no deaths this time and the police just put it down to a drunken fight. From what I’ve learnt it was like a small scale version of what happened in Russia.”

“The nuclear accident you mean?” Buffy asked.

“There was no ‘accident’, Miss Summers,” Zellaby turned away from the window, “it seems that the Russian children were more developed that ours. The Russian authorities, realising the danger, sent in troops to arrest the children and take them away to be held in separate locations. In the battle that followed at least a hundred-and-fifty of the Interior Ministry’s troops were killed or wounded. The children made them fight amongst themselves you see? A week later the Russians fired a tactical nuclear missile at the settlement without any warning and destroyed it. They told the world that there’d been a terrible accident. They begged the British government to destroy Midwich immediately without attempting to evacuate it first!”

Buffy sat lost for words at the enormity of the things she was hearing.

“As you can see,” smiled Zellaby, “we’re still here…I wish we weren’t.”

“So, basically professor,” Buffy spoke slowly choosing her words carefully, “these kids can make people do whatever they want.”

“That’s right,” Zellaby nodded his head.

“Then,” Buffy wanted to know, “why didn’t they make Kennedy and me fight each other when they caught us sneaking around that Grange place.” Buffy explained about the previous night.

“I don’t know,” Zellaby shrugged then seemed to think for a moment. “As I understand it, the slayer is resistant to mind control, or will break that control faster than a normal human would.”

“Sort of,” Buffy admitted, “but this time neither of us felt a thing and the kid looked real worried.”

“Interesting,” Zellaby rubbed his chin deep in thought, “this will bear looking into.”

Zellaby and Buffy talked for another five or ten minutes until Buffy got up to go, she thanked the professor for his help before going to look for Kennedy. She found her chatting to Mrs Zellaby in the rose garden at the back of the manor. Collecting the younger slayer Buffy led the way back towards the village. She explained what she’d learnt from the professor as they walked down the lane.

“So,” Buffy glanced at Kennedy out of the corner of her eye, “what did you find out? I’m guessing you weren’t just discussing the roses.”

“No,” Kennedy admitted, “Mrs Zellaby told me a lot about the village and its history.”

“Go on,” Buffy encouraged.

“Okay then,” Kennedy marshalled her thoughts, “first off there’s no reason for Midwich to be where it is. There’s no ford or bridge, no market, it doesn’t even get a mention in the Doomsday Book.”

“So?” Buffy couldn’t see were Kennedy was going with this.

“Oliver Cromwell never stopped at the inn, Charles the Second never hid up one of the village elms,” Kennedy smiled at Buffy’s puzzled frown. “In fact the only interesting thing that happened here before the Day-out, was when Henry the Eight’s soldiers came and burnt down the local monastery.”

“So what are you saying?” Buffy wanted to know.

“I’m saying it’s unnatural,” Kennedy tried to explain, “every village in England has at least one story to tell gullible tourists. Not one ghost of a historical figure that stopped for a beer or anything…not in Midwich its weird. It’s almost as if someone planned to put the village here where it was out of the way. Like it was hidden in plain view, or…” she shrugged, “...I could be reading too much into it!”

“You said there was a monastery?” Buffy asked.

“Just ruins now,” Kennedy pointed to a path between two fields, “we’re going there next.”

“Why?” Buffy demanded, the path looked muddy and she was wearing new trainers.

“Saved the best ‘til last,” Kennedy smirked as she started down the path in her stylish yet practical boots of the night before.

“Oooh,” Buffy looked miserably at the mud before she followed Kennedy down the path, “the best?”

“Yep!” Kennedy looked insufferably smug, “I bet you didn’t know that a round metallic object was spotted in the grounds of the monastery on the day of the Day-out, did you?”

“No!” Buffy admitted, this sounded like a major clue.

“That’s because it’s not in the records,” Kennedy explained, “but Anthea saw some photographs taken by the army a few years ago. They were in a file sent to her husband by someone in the army.”

“Wonder why he never mentioned it?” Buffy’s hand drifted towards her phone, “I’m thinking we should call Giles for more information.”

“Let’s look at this old abbey place first,” Kennedy suggested, “then call him when we’re back at the pub. I’ll talk to Willow see if she’d got any ideas why we’re not affected by the mind control thing.”

0=0=0=0

The ruins were in a neatly fenced off area of short grass about a mile from the village proper. There was a bronze plaque with a potted history of the sight engraved on it; several English Heritage signs and a wooden hut. The ruins consisted of a number of short lengths of thick stone wall and some foundations in the short grass. As a day out it would have proved a great disappointment for anyone not interested in ruins.

“No sign of any flying saucers,” Buffy pointed out as she walked around a section of wall.

“No,” Kennedy agreed, “but there is this suspicious looking lump in the ground.”

“Where?” Buffy looked around excitedly.

“Here,” Kennedy stood on the top of a low mound maybe thirty feet across, “come here,” she ordered.

Slowly Buffy walked over to stand next to Kennedy.

“Feel that?” Kennedy asked.

“What?” Buffy shivered as if someone had walked over her grave, “Like, the feeling of impending doom?”

“That’s the one,” Kennedy walked down off the mound, “here there’s nothing,” she stepped onto the mound again, “Doom,” she announced and stepped off again, “fine!”

“Okay,” Buffy ran her hand through her hair as she looked around, “we have a residual magical field.”

“Wow,” Kennedy said sarcastically, “listen to Buffy making with the clever phrases.”

“So?” Buffy joined Kennedy at the foot of the mound, “I can sound like I know what I’m talking about when I want to.”

“Anyway,” Kennedy gazed off across the fields to a hedge about a sixty yards away, “it might just be our slayer senses trying to warn us that there’s evil all around and don’t look now but were being watched,” gasped Kennedy as she ran out of air.

“What? Where?” Buffy pretended to be studying a lump of fallen stonework.

“Six of the Children, hiding behind that hedge.” Kennedy said quietly as if frightened to be overheard.

“Let’s go see what they want,” not waiting for Kennedy to answer, Buffy climbed the fence and set off across the field towards the Children.

0=0=0=0


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Running across the field, Kennedy caught up with Buffy and grabbed hold of her arm; hanging on tightly and digging in her heels in, she managed to bring the senior slayer to a halt.

“Hold on a minute,” Kennedy flinched as Buffy turned, her fist half raised; in an instant a look of utter horror crossed Buffy’s face.

“Oh god,” she gasped, “I’m so sorry!”

“Not half as sorry as you’d have been if that blow had landed,” Kennedy let go of Buffy’s arm.

“Hey!” Buffy frowned angrily at her sister slayer, “I said I was sorry…why’d you grab me anyway?”

“To stop you from doing something stupid,” Kennedy crossed her arms over her chest and watched Buffy with her head tilted slightly to one side.

“Stupid?” Buffy asked shocked, “Me?”

“Yes you,” Kennedy gestured to the hedgerow, “just what were you going to do?”

“I was going to ask them why they were watching us,” Buffy glanced over to where the teenagers had been lurking only to find they’d gone, “darn!” she muttered angrily.

“I really don’t think we want anymore confrontations with these kids until we find out more about them,” Kennedy pointed out even if her instincts were telling her to kill them all and soon.

Opening her mouth to argue, Buffy paused and thought for a moment. “Perhaps you’re right,” she sighed reluctant to agree with anything Kennedy said, “Maybe we should check them out some more.”

“Now you’re using your brain,” Kennedy turned to head back towards the ruined abbey, “it amazes me that it hasn’t atrophied from lack of use.”

“Why you…” once again Buffy was ready to fight.

“Come on then,” Kennedy turned full on to Buffy bringing up her fists, “you lay one finger on me and I’m telling Willow.”

“Willow?” Buffy paused thinking of the possible consequences of punching the girlfriend of the world’s most powerful witch; Buffy dropped her fists and pouted, “Tattletale!”

“Darn straight buster,” smiled Kennedy using one of Willow’s favourite phrases. “Come on,” she resumed her march towards the abbey’s ruins, “I’ll buy you lunch.”

0=0=0=0

Blinking his eyes, David Zellaby’s mind came back to the room his body inhabited; he glanced up at the three humans who stood in front of the desk waiting for him to give them their instructions. He shifted in his chair; the humans could wait a few minutes more while he considered the problem of the two women. Their arrival in the village could not have come at a worse time.

The plan to disperse the colony was well advanced but nowhere near completion. Now all the females had been impregnated it was vital that the colony split up so they could not be destroyed in a single attack like the colony in Russia. In five months time the females would give birth to the next generation of the collective. A month later they would be ready to be impregnated again. David shivered slightly at the thought; the method of procreation used by the humans was messy and vaguely disgusting, but he would play his part for the good of the colony.

In twenty years time there would be enough of them to control the entire planet. In no more than a hundred years what humans remained would be nothing but mindless slaves working for the good of the collective. It was a slow but effective method of colonisation eventually there would be no reason for the humans to exist and they would all be exterminated, but until then they made useful tools.

However, to use a human saying, there were several ‘flies’ in David’s ‘ointment’. Chief among them were the two strange women, the other was their possible discovery and impending destruction by the Others. The creatures who had invaded and destroyed his home world. David shifted his gaze to the grey haired human in the smart suit.

“What have you discovered about the women who arrived here yesterday?” David asked tonelessly.

“Not a lot so far, sir,” Sir Edgar Hargraves, a senior civil servant at the Home Office, looked around nervously, the children didn’t like failure. “Their names are Buffy Summers and Kennedy Scarpone they both live in or near Middlesbrough in Cleveland so far that’s all we’ve discovered.”

“Discover more,” for someone who habitually spoke with no emotion, David Zellaby could sound very menacing, “go!”

Dismissing the civil servant with a wave of his hand David turned his eyes to the tall man in the military uniform.

“General Leighton,” David stared right through the man, “I hope you have better news for me?”

“Indeed sir,” the general sounded eager to please his master, “secure transport is now available to take you and the rest of the colony to their new locations. Each new ‘hide’ is situated deep within areas that the government would be reluctant to destroy using nuclear or other weapons of mass destruction. Each hide has been equipped with both passive and active automatic defence systems and are sufficiently well protected to resist any conventional attack that the government might launch.”

“What about an attack by a hostile power,” David wanted to know, “one that is not concerned about the collateral damage it causes?”

“While it’s impossible to guard against every form of attack from whatever quarter,” the General explained, “we have been able to mitigate their possible effects…”

“How?” David looked deep into the general’s mind and saw the blueprints for several of the hide locations.

“All the hides have been linked, so if one is attacked the others will be notified,” the general looked uncomfortable, obviously realising that David was in his mind, “there are also secure escape routes out of each of the hides.”

“Good,” if David could smile he would have, as it was his face remained impassive, “you have done well and will be rewarded. One last question if there is an emergency how quickly can we be evacuated from this location.”

“Once the order to move has been given,” General Leighton answered slowly, “the transport will be here within thirty minutes. Some of the collective will be moved by air others by road, no more than two individuals in each vehicle.”

“Well done,” David dismissed the officer with a look before turning to the harassed looking man in the creased lab-coat. “Now Professor Smith what have you to tell me?”

The scientist shifted uncomfortably under the teenager’s gaze, of all the people who worked at the Grange he’d been there the longest. However the collective’s control over his mind wasn’t the strongest. The professor was unusually strong willed and it’d taken the collective a long time to ware him down. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was so useful they’d have killed him years ago.

“T-the women!” Smith ran a nervous finger around the collar of his shirt, “The o-ones you’re so worried about…”

“What about them?” despite himself David looked up at the man eagerly.

“They were at you father’s home earlier today,” the words rushed to get out of Smith’s mouth.

“Interesting,” David nodded and had an almost irresistible urge to stroke an albino feline, “I must go and visit my father…in the mean time,” David took full control of the scientists mind, “you will continue your preparations for our departure from this place. Remember nothing must be left standing and no one is to survive, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Smith almost ran from the room.

Physically alone, but at the same time in the warm embrace of the collective, David communed with his brothers and sisters. Their plans were progressing smoothly the only possible threat came from the two strange women who resisted their every attempt at control. It was decided that should the women pose a direct threat to the collective or any of its individual members those threatened would be free to use the local population against the women. The collective’s other powers would be held in reserve for now. At the end of the gathering, David advised the rest of the collective of his intention of meeting with his human father.

0=0=0=0

Opening the front door, Anthea Zellaby gasped in surprise as she saw her son standing on the doorstep.

“Hello mother,” David stared with dead eyes at his birth mother.

“Hello David,” Anthea tried to suppress the feeling of revulsion she always felt whenever she had to speak to her ‘son’.

“Do not worry Mother,” David stepped into the manor, “I am here to see father, I will not be long.”

“Oh!” Anthea forced a smile, “That’ll be nice,” she stepped away from the teenager in case he tried to touch her, “he’s in his study.”

“I know,” David walked past his mother and into the house.

Always feeling that his birth mother’s mind was too disordered to control effectively for long, he never tried. He knew she was frightened of him, but, he also knew that fear could easily turn to hate and anger which could, in turn, lead to violence. He tried to keep away from her as much as possible. Finding himself standing outside his father’s study, David raised his hand and knocked, after waiting for a second he walked into the room to find his father sitting at his desk.

“David!” Gordon Zellaby turned from his computer monitor to face his son, “What are…”

“Hello Father,” David quickly crossed the room until he was standing in front of his father, he picked up his father’s thoughts easily; David frowned, “What are Slayers, father?”

0=0=0=0

“Interesting,” Kennedy read the words on the screen of her laptop; she and Buffy were in the lounge bar at the Parcel of Rogues.

“What’s that?” Buffy eagerly put down the local guide book and squeezed up next to Kennedy so she could see the laptop’s screen.

“This,” Kennedy pointed at the screen.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head, “it’s amazing that there’s, like, a wireless connection way out here,” Buffy noticed the look of pity she was getting off Kennedy, “What?”

“Nothing,” Kennedy sighed, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Mr Giles, all those years with Buffy; then she remembered it was him who’d stranded her out here with ‘Miss Airhead’. “It’s not a wireless connection,” Kennedy explained patiently, “it’s a magical connection set up by Willow.”

“Cool,” Buffy smiled before becoming more business like, “so what did you find?”

“That ‘burial mound’ thing by the abbey?” Kennedy glanced sideways at Buffy and wished she wouldn’t sit so close.

“Uh-huh,” Buffy rested her arm on the back of the settee they were sitting on.

“Well,” Kennedy resisted the urge to shift away from Buffy, “it’s in the exact same place that the ‘metallic object’ was spotted during the day-out.”

“So?” Buffy gazed into Kennedy’s eyes making her feel uncomfortable.

“Are you feeling alright?” Kennedy asked concerned, she received an affirmative nod from Buffy. “Well,” Kennedy continued slowly, “all the records have been altered to say it’s always been there but there’s no trace of it on any maps.”

“So you think it’s some sort of flying saucer thing then?” Buffy’s eyebrows lowered as she thought of the consequences of this information, “Okay,” her arm slipped from the back of the settee to rest on Kennedy’s shoulder, “then we’re probably not dealing with demons, we’re probably facing aliens.”

“My thoughts exactly,” agreed Kennedy, “and would you mind not touching me like that.”

“Sorry?” Buffy raised a questioning eyebrow; Kennedy glanced at Buffy’s hand that was still resting on her shoulder. “Oh my god!” Buffy suddenly noticed what she was doing, “I’m so sorry, that was…that’s so inappropriate.”

Quickly Buffy removed her hand and looked embarrassed.

“Okay,” Kennedy breathed a sigh of relief; she was worried, had Buffy developed a crush on her? No, Kennedy dismissed the thought, that was impossible it could never happen. 

“Find out anything else?” Buffy fiddled with the cross hanging around her neck.

“Not really,” Kennedy decided to try and forget the incident, “Willow’s doing some in depth checks; you know, trying to get into government files. But, its like I told you last night, Midwich is like nowhere-ville, there’s nothing much about the place because nothing ever happened here.”

“You’re still thinking that this place was somehow chosen,” Buffy was all ‘serious-slayer’ now, “perhaps even deliberately built to supply like a nest for these things?”

“Could be,” Kennedy shrugged, “its tempting to say that but its probably just coincidence.”

“Anyway,” Buffy leaned back in her seat, “what do we do about it? Do we need to do anything?”

“I’d say definitely ‘yes’,” Kennedy knew it must be serious when Buffy started asking for opinions. “There’s all this mind control stuff, the older they get the more powerful they become if all we’ve heard and read is true. Who knows what they’ll be able to do in a couple of years. The Russians obviously thought they were a danger.”

“Agreed,” Buffy nodded her head, “what do your instincts tell you?”

“Kill them,” Kennedy replied flatly, “kill them all, kill them now.”

“Agreed,” Buffy nodded yet again, “but there’s one question that needs asking.”

“What’s that?”

“How do we cover up killing sixty teenagers?” Buffy stared into Kennedy’s eyes hoping to find the answer.

“Well,” Kennedy replied sadly, “if we can’t think of a way we still need to do it. We’ll just have to take the consequences.”

0=0=0=0

Walking briskly away from the manor, David thought long and hard about what he’d discovered about, Buffy Summers and Kennedy Scarpone, the slayers. The rest of the collective already knew what he knew about the new threat and they would have to come to a decision soon on what their response should be. These slayers were too dangerous to be left free, they would all have to be hunted down and destroyed.

As soon as the collective was powerful enough it would use the human’s own security services to hunt down and destroy every slayer on the planet. They would also have to remain alert for the ‘slayer-gene’s’ reappearance even after all the slayers had been killed. But that was all for the future, in the here and now they needed to deal with the slayers actually in the village.

Calling the other members of the collective together, David announced that they would have to move against the slayers tonight. They would need the full power of the colony to control all the villagers and have them kill the interlopers. Once dead their bodies could be disposed of, their possessions could be hidden or destroyed and all traces of them ever being in Midwich would be expunged.

As he neared the Grange a thought entered David’s mind, he paused as he realised the full impact of that thought. In a way the humans had infected the collective! He was acting more like a human leader would than just a conduit of the collective-mind. He was making decisions without consulting the group. He was telling other members of the collective what to do…and they were obeying him without argument. The feeling of power it gave him was both interesting and disturbing, he would have to think on this some more but only after the slayers had been destroyed.

0=0=0=0


	6. Chapter 6

6.

“Hi Giles,” Buffy looked into the screen of Kennedy’s laptop as Giles’ face stared back at her, “we’ve got a problem.”

“We’ve all got problems, Buffy,” Giles replied distractedly, “what’s yours?”

“We think all these children are aliens and we need to kill them,” Buffy explained quickly, “soon…what’s yours?”

“What’s mine?” Giles really did look and sounded distracted.

“Problem,” Buffy prompted.

“Oh, nothing that won’t keep until you and Kennedy get back,” Giles changed the subject, “aliens you say? What makes you think that?”

“Oh nothing much,” Buffy sighed, “they’re not exactly walking around implanting eggs in people’s chests or eating brains…”

“That’s zombies,” Kennedy pointed out helpfully, “aliens usually use their laser eyes to burn out your brain.”

“Sorry, my bad,” Buffy gave Kennedy a hard look which Kennedy totally ignored, “but there is the golden eyes thing, the silvery skin and…oh yes! The totally mind controlly stuff!”

“You’re sure?” Giles frowned out of the screen at them. “If they can control people’s minds how come you’re not affected?”

“Good luck?” Buffy suggested.

“Good looks,” Kennedy tossed her head like a model selling shampoo and swept an errant strand of hair from her face.

“I think its being so totally cool that does it,” Buffy pointed out, “that and being slayers.”

“Hmmm,” Giles took off his glasses and started to polish, “how can you be sure you’re not being controlled by these children now?”

“Oh, come off it Mr Giles!” Kennedy pushed Buffy out of the way so she could see the screen properly, “Do we look as if we’re in the thrall of some evil space brats?”

“Thrall?” Buffy asked as she pushed back at Kennedy.

“Look it up,” Kennedy suggested; eventually the two young women established some sort of status quo in front of the computer screen.

“What do you think they want?” Giles replaced his glasses, “Have you tried talking to them?”

“What do aliens usually want?” Buffy shrugged.

“The usual stuff,” Kennedy added.

“Yeah,” agreed Buffy with a glance at the younger woman, “you know; world domination, water, brains…”

“I said that was zombies,” Kennedy corrected again.

“‘V’,” Buffy pointed out.

“Oh, yes,” Kennedy agreed reluctantly, “I suppose.”

“Alright then,” Giles nodded his head slowly, “suppose these alien children are out to take over the world, what do you intend to do about it.”

“Look,” Buffy glanced at Kennedy then looked back at the screen, “both of our inner slayers are telling us to kill them.”

“But?” Giles’ frown got deeper.

“Yeah,” Buffy took a deep breath, “look there's sixty of them; they look like teenagers…weird teenagers true. But how are we going to kill sixty teenagers and get away with it?”

“There’s the simple logistics of the thing,” Kennedy pointed out.

“Logistics?” Buffy turned once more to look at her sister slayer, “Do you read the dictionary for fun?”

“There’s the simple fact,” Kennedy chose to ignore Buffy, “that at some point we’re going to have sixty bodies to dispose of and its not like we can make it look like an accident.”

“Yes I can see your problem,” Giles stared at something off camera for a moment, “I’ll…I’ll see what I can do…”

“Giles,” Buffy’s voice sounded concerned, “what’s wrong, you sound, like, distracted; what going on?”

“Oh…erm nothing that you need worry about,” Giles didn’t sound very convincing, “it’s nothing that Willow and myself can’t deal with.”

“Giles!” Buffy sounded concerned, “Come on Giles, spill.”

“It’s nothing,” Giles looked away from the camera again and said, “Stop that!” He looked back at Buffy, “I’ll contact you as soon as I…LOOK!” Once again Giles was talking to someone off camera, he didn’t sound happy, in fact he looked embarrassed, “I told you…can’t you try and control your…”

The screen went blank, Buffy and Kennedy frowned at each other as they had a silent conversation.

“I’ll call Willow,” Kennedy turned the laptop to face her and made the connection to Willow’s computer.

“Oh!” Willow looked at the screen, her expression spoke of confusion and worry, “Hi sweetie, you alright?”

“Yeah, honey I’m fine and Buffy’s fine too,” Kennedy watched as Willow made a magical gesture; she heard the fairy bells that indicated a minor spell had just been cast. “What’s going on up there?”

“Oh nothing,” Willow lied badly, “everything’s fine and…” the connection went dead as did the lights.

“What the?” Buffy stood up quickly and looked around the room. There were no immediate signs of danger so she turned back to Kennedy and the laptop, “Get Willow back…NOW!”

“Can’t,” Kennedy put down the laptop and stood up to join Buffy, “the power’s gone and something’s drained the battery.”

“Not good,” Buffy made her way across the room and put her ear against the door, “There’s someone outside,” she whispered.

As soon as she’d spoken someone knocked on the door.

“Hello?” Buffy called.

“Hello dear,” came a female voice from outside, “it’s Mrs. Harrington, the power’s gone off, I’ve brought a lantern for you. Open the door dear.”

Buffy turned and looked at Kennedy, “Is it me or did you think there was something totally weird in the way she asked us to open the door?”

“Like, scary, axe murderer weird?” Kennedy started to search about in her bag.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head, as she backed away from the door, “that’d be the one.”

“Right,” Kennedy walked over to the door concealing something egg sized in her hand and whispered, “close your eyes.”

“What?” Buffy whispered back.

“Eyes,” Kennedy repeated, “close them.”

Yanking open the door, Kennedy looked out into the hall way to see it full of villagers clutching various improvised weapons. Mrs. Harrington stood at the head of the mob clutching the world’s biggest meat cleaver. Hurling the egg shaped object out into the centre of the crowd, Kennedy slammed the door shut and closed her eyes. There was a loud *BANG!* and a flash that lit up the room through the door; Kennedy could still see the flash even through her closed eye lids.

“What the hell was that!?” Buffy gasped.

“Just something that Willow made up for me in case I ever meet another Hunting Horror,” Kennedy pulled open the door to find the mob stumbling around the hall completely stunned and blinded. “Come-on, it won’t last for long.”

Pushing villagers out of the way the two slayers made their way along the corridor to the top of the stairs. Buffy deftly deflected the old sword that had been thrust at her by the man a couple of steps below her. She kicked out, the toe of her shoe catching the man on the tip of his chin. Blood and teeth flew everywhere as the man fell backwards slowing down the half dozen villagers who were running up the stairs behind him.

“This way!” Kennedy kicked open a door and pulled Buffy into the room beyond.

While Buffy blocked the door with a wardrobe, Kennedy stepped across the room and threw open the window. Sticking her head out into the cold evening air, she saw that it was an easy jump to the ground where three villagers guarded the door to the pub.

“Come on,” Kennedy said over the noise of the villagers in the corridor trying to break down the door. “We’ll climb out, jump down and head for the car and get out of this mad house.”

“Good plan,” Buffy joined Kennedy by the window.

Climbing out, Kennedy paused on the window sill for a moment before jumping into the middle of the little group of villagers. Buffy heard several muffled blows as she climbed outside and followed Kennedy down to the ground. Looking at the sleeping forms of the villagers she smiled at Kennedy.

“Nice job.”

“Of course!” Kennedy started to trot off into the dark.

Jogging around to the front of the pub the two slayers saw a crowd of villagers stumble from the pub’s front door.

“Act naturally,” Buffy ordered as they made their way to where the red and more importantly fast sports car waited.

“Does that mean I should try to kill you?” Kennedy whispered as she searched in her pocket for the keys, “Because I will if you think it’ll help.”

“Whatever,” Buffy shrugged.

It was only when the car went *Beep-Beep!* as Kennedy unlocked the door that the crowd noticed them. Dragging the doors open the two women climbed hurriedly into the car.

“Buckle up!” Kennedy ordered as she pulled her door shut and found the ignition with the keys.

Checking that her door was closed securely, Buffy reached for her seatbelt as the engine roared into life. Putting the car into reverse and taking off the handbrake, Kennedy mashed down on the accelerator with her foot. The car shot off backwards hitting several villagers and sending the others staggering in all directions. A swift gear change and some hard hauling of the steering wheel and the car was soon heading out of the car park and onto the road.

Once again, Kennedy floored the accelerator. Swiftly changing gears she drove the car at break neck speed around the village green. Stones arced out of the night to hit the car and chip the paint work. A shotgun blast completely failed to hit them and a petrol bomb exploded on the road in front of them. Driving over the pool of fire, Kennedy changed gear again and turned the wheel. Fitting perfectly down a narrow lane, Kennedy once again concentrated on speed and putting as much distance between them and the insane villagers.

Looking out of the rear window, Buffy saw there was no pursuit. Turning to her front she saw the children standing in the light of the headlights just before Kennedy stood on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt in a cloud of burnt rubber as Kennedy’s arms tensed as she kept control of the car by brute strength.

“The bastards!” Kennedy was already selecting reverse.

“What?” Buffy looked up and studied the children closely, “Yeah, bastards!” She agreed as she saw that the Children were using the normal village children as a living road block.

The car shot off backwards and they soon found themselves on the road around the village green again. More stones bounced off the car, one cracked the windscreen and another petrol bomb went off nearby, this time splashing the car with burning petrol.

“I’ll try the other road out,” once again Kennedy drove at high speed around the green until she came to the only other road out of the village.

“You know I said you were a good driver?” Buffy watched villagers run after them in the light of the burning petrol bombs. “Well I take it all back…you’re a brilliant driver!”

“FUCK!” Kennedy stood on the breaks as her headlights picked up another group of children standing in the road blocking their path. “What do we do?”

Looking at the villagers rapidly approaching from behind and then at the children standing in the road, Buffy knew she had a hard decision to make.

“OUT!” Buffy unsnapped her safety belt and pushed open her door, “We’ll make a run for it across the fields.”

A punch and a kick removed the threat of a couple of the speedier villagers as Buffy followed Kennedy over the hedge into the field beyond.

“Any suggestions on which way to go?” Kennedy crouched down in the lee of the hedge; they could hear the rest of the villagers getting closer.

Looking around the pitch black field, Buffy tried to think, why was Kennedy asking her these questions?

“No,” Buffy said eventually, “you?”

“This way,” Kennedy pointed towards a gate on the other side of the field.

To Buffy it looked no different than any other direction, but she followed Kennedy anyway as they sprinted across the field.

0=0=0=0

Watching the chase develop in his mind, David Zellaby nodded his head in satisfaction. He’d surmised correctly that despite their vicious sounding name, the slayers would not risk harming the village children. It was a fault displayed by most humans and he was happy to exploit it. Although the two fugitives could not be controlled, their minds shone like beacons in the dark. David settled down and concentrated on guiding the villagers towards their target.

0=0=0=0

Having stopped sprinting, Buffy and Kennedy settled down into a steady ground eating pace, they could keep this up all night if they had to. They jumped a gate like a pair of hurdlers hardly breaking their stride as they did so.

“What’s that?” Buffy cocked her head to listen; a steady thumping came from out of the dark, it was getting closer.

“Horses,” Kennedy slowed to a stop.

“Why’re you stopping?” Buffy took another pace or two before coming to a halt.

“You want to spend all night running?” Kennedy started to walk towards the sound of the approaching hoof beats.

“Not my first choice,” Buffy agreed turning to follow her comrade.

“I expect they’ll come through there,” Kennedy pointed to a gap in the hedges, “we can take them out easily.”

Crouching down on either side of the gap in the hedge the two women waited silently. They heard the horses slowdown as the riders searched for the gap. There were only three of them; Buffy and Kennedy waited until they were all through the gap before jumping up like two deadly jack-in-the-boxes. Dragging the riders from their saddles the fight was soon over. Buffy was just punching the last rider when another horse and rider came up from behind her. Turning ready to fight, she looked up to see Kennedy grinning down at her from the back of the horse.

“Here,” Kennedy smiled as she reached down to Buffy, “I thought we’d ride instead of running.”

“Cool!” Buffy grabbed hold of Kennedy’s hand and vaulted onto the horse behind the younger woman.

“HA!” Kennedy put her heels to the horse’s side and started it off across the field; they’d only gone a few yards before she brought the horse to a halt. “You know,” she said over her shoulder, “I’m fed up with running.”

“I know what you mean,” Buffy agreed, “you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If you’re thinking that the best form of defence is a spirited offence then yes.” Kennedy explained.

“Umm,” Buffy hesitated for a moment, “why do you sound like Giles?”

“It’s a talent,” Kennedy admitted modestly.

“Okay,” Buffy laughed, “let’s turn this horse around and go and kick some alien butt!”

“If you actually mean, kill some alien butt,” Kennedy pointed out, “I’m all for it…I don’t think a simple butt kicking will suffice.”

“Hey!” Buffy complained, “Stop coming out with all these watchery type words and yes I do mean ‘kill’ Miss Blunt-talker.”

“Okay,” Kennedy agreed, “hold on tight!”

Buffy held on tightly to Kennedy’s waist as the horse reared up pawing the air with its hooves.

“HI-HO SILVER, AWAAAY!” cried Kennedy as the horse thundered off across the field with its passengers bouncing wildly along on its back.

0=0=0=0


	7. Chapter 7

7.

Watching from his upstairs spare bedroom, Professor Zellaby could just see the fires flickering in the village through the trees. When the sound of gunshots had first alerted him that something was amiss, he’d gone upstairs and looked out of his window and wondered what he should do. He’d been standing there for half and hour now and he’d finally made up his mind.

For a long time, maybe even years after he’d first suspected that the Children were a threat; he’d tried to convince the government to ‘do’ something about them. He’d hit a brick wall of course; even if the Children weren’t actually influencing people at the Ministry the ‘powers that be’ were blinded by the promise of what the Children might be able to do for them; so he’d put his own plans in motion.

The internet was a wonderful thing, a great aid to his research allowing him to communicate with academics all over the world. It also allowed him to research areas that were not directly connected to his own areas of expertise. Using several websites and after a visit to one or two actual libraries, Zellaby had begun his project. The wiring, switches and batteries had been bought from a local hardware shop. The circuits themselves were just an exercise in logic and the use of a soldering iron. The detonators and the explosives had been harder to find, but, he had contacts in the military who, while not able to actually supply what he needed, knew where he could go to get it. Turning away from the window, Zellaby walked across the room and out onto the landing. Going downstairs he walked into the living room where he found his wife reading one of the classic romantic novels she so enjoyed.

“Anthea,” Zellaby slowly crossed the room as he consigned every detail of how his wife looked to memory, after tonight he’d never see her again; his wife looked up and smiled at him. “You know I love you very much…”

“What a strange thing to say,” Anthea put down her book and smiled up at her husband.

“Strange but true,” Zellaby replied half jokingly, “I’ve never asked you to ‘obey’ me in anything have I?”

“Gordon?” the smile left Anthea’s face to be replaced by a concerned frown, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to invoke our marriage vows and insist that you obey me,” Zellaby walked across the room to stand by the fireplace.

“Stop being so silly,” Anthea tried to laugh the feeling of doom away but the smile faded on her lips before it had really got itself established.

“I’m afraid,” Zellaby continued as he tried to keep his voice calm and steady, “I’m going to have to insist that you pack a bag and go and visit your sister in London.”

“But why?” Anthea stood up and took a step towards her husband.

“Please,” Zellaby held up his hand stopping his wife in her tracks, “please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“It’s David and the Children isn’t it?” a look of horror passed over Anthea’s face, “My god, Gordon, what are you going to do?”

“Something that should have been done years ago,” Zellaby replied. “Isn’t it funny that so-called primitive societies could see the danger when we could not?”

“I won’t go,” Anthea said stubbornly, “I want to stay and help, I…”

“No,” Zellaby shook his head sadly, “my only chance of going through with this is knowing that you’re safe.”

“You’re sure?” Anthea rushed into her husband’s arms and held him very tightly; she rested her head against his shoulder, “Is there no other way?”

“I don’t think so,” Zellaby said sadly, “I think the time for ‘other ways’ is long past.”

“Well then,” Anthea let go of her husband, “I haven’t seen Claudia in a couple of months and she always likes surprise visits,” she brushed at her eye with her hand as she forced a smile. “I’ll pop upstairs and pack a bag then.”

Turning away from her husband, Anthea ran out of the room and upstairs. Standing by the fireplace, one hand on the mantel piece, Zellaby looked up at the brickwork of the fireplace and sighed heavily. Of course his plan would only work if the Children weren’t able to read his mind. He had, after much mental preparation, been able to block the Children’s probes for short periods of time by reciting nursery rhymes and other mindless mantras.

But, this had only been effective for a short time, the Children had always been able to break down his defences. What he needed was something more solid something that would keep them out of his head long enough for him to get deep inside the Grange. He needed something like a mental wall. He looked up at the brickwork of the fireplace and a smile slowly spread across his face, a brick wall. He needed to build a brick wall in his mind to keep the Children out. It would only need to last long enough to get him inside then he could…

“I’m ready,” his wife’s voice broke into his thoughts; turning he saw her standing in the doorway a small suitcase in her hand. “I’ll only be away for a couple of days,” Anthea spoke as if it was the most normal thing in the world to drive to London on the spur of the moment in the middle of the night. “Look after yourself and don’t forget to eat, don’t get too involved in that book of yours. I know how you get and…”

Not being able to keep up the fiction any longer, Anthea dropped her bag and rushed into her husband’s arms for what she knew would be the last time.

“We’ve been happy, haven’t we?” Anthea’s tear streaked face looked up into her husband’s.

“These last fifteen years,” Zellaby buried his face in his wife’s hair, “have been the happiest of my life.” Taking her by her shoulders, he held his wife at arms length, “It’s time for you to leave now, my love.”

“Yes…yes it is,” Anthea wiped away her tears and smiled at her husband one last time, “stiff upper lip and all that. I don’t know what’s come over me, acting all silly and emotional like this.” Anthea’s laugh was like a fragile glass bell ready to break at any moment, “After all I’ll see you again in a couple of days.”

Turning away, Anthea walked rapidly across the room, pausing at the door she picked up her case before running down the hall to the front door. Pulling the big heavy door open she stepped out into the night.

“Goodbye, darling,” she called over her shoulder before running to the car and driving away.

“Goodbye, my love,” Zellaby called softly into the night as he pushed the door closed, turning he walked through the house and out of the back door.

By the light of a torch he made his way down the garden path to the little wooden shed that he used as a workshop. Unlocking the door he went inside and switched on the light. Closing the door behind him he went over to a trunk that lay under his workbench. Opening the trunk he took out the explosive vest that he had so painstakingly made over last few months. He stood up and lay the vest on the workbench. Checking that the wiring wasn’t connected he checked the circuits before connecting up the detonators.

Carefully pressing the detonators into the blocks of explosive he smiled with satisfaction at a job well done. Picking up the vest he slipped it on. It was heavy, but as the weight was fairly evenly distributed it didn’t feel too bad. After all he had no real idea how much explosive he’d need to destroy the Grange. He hoped thirty pounds would be enough, after all he was using military grade explosive.

Slipping the ‘dead man’s switch’ into his pocket, Zellaby decided to set the timer when he armed the vest closer to the Grange, he’d read that two methods of detonation were better than one. Glancing around his little workshop, he decided there was nothing else he needed. Closing the front of the vest he padlocked it shut; it wouldn’t do if the Children broke down his defences and forced him to take off the vest. One way or another the vest would explode and whatever else happened he would die, hopefully along with all the Children.

Walking briskly back to the house, Zellaby passed through his home and out the front door not bothering to close the doors or switch off the lights. Walking down the drive towards the lane that would take him to the village, Zellaby felt the weight of the world and the weight of the vest lifted from his shoulders, soon he would be free.

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done;” Zellaby recited as he walked along the lane towards the village, “it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”

0=0=0=0

“Okay,” Buffy called as they galloped across the fields towards the Grange, “so you can ride, is there nothing you can’t do?”

Noting the heavy sarcasm in Buffy’s voice, Kennedy chose to ignore it; she knew it was just thinly disguised jealousy.

“Well,” she replied straight faced, “I’ve never been that good at leaping tall buildings in a single bound!” Kennedy decided to explain, “I learnt to ride when I was eight, as I grew older it became a useful social skill in the set I moved in.”

“Set?” Buffy queried.

“Oh, Buffy,” Kennedy gave Buffy a pitying look over her shoulder, “you are such a middle-class cliché…you do know what cliché means don’t you?”

“Like, you do know what a broken nose means?” Buffy replied menacingly.

“Remember,” Kennedy brought the horse to a halt, “you lay one finger on me and I’ll tell.”

“But!” Buffy noticed they were at the wall that surrounded The Grange, “Willow’s my bestest friend I’ve known her for years she’d never…”

“Are you sure?” Kennedy smirked ever so slightly, “After all I’m the one that goes to bed with her, the one who satisfies her every need.”

“Darn,” Buffy cursed, “Didn’t think of that, I’ll deal with you after we’ve dealt with these evil, mind controlling aliens.”

Using the horse as a ladder the two young women climbed from its back onto the top of the wall and then jumped down into the Grange’s neglected garden.

“So what’re we going to do?” Kennedy wanted to know as she crouched in the long wet grass next to Buffy, “Just walk in there and beat everyone to a pulp before breaking their necks?”

“It’s always worked before,” Buffy pointed out, “after all what can they do? They can’t control our minds and they don’t look like they could fight a five year old.”

“Okay,” Kennedy shrugged, “sounds like a plan to me,” she gestured towards the house, “After you…age before beauty.”

“Brat!” Buffy muttered as she started across the unkempt lawn towards the house.

“That’s me!” Kennedy agreed as followed in Buffy’s wake.

Flattening themselves against the wall of the Grange the two slayers stood either side of a tall French window.

“What now?” Kennedy whispered.

“We get inside,” Buffy grinned in the darkness, “and let the fun begin!”

“And how do we…” Kennedy stopped speaking as she watched Buffy pick up an old, concrete garden gnome and throw it through the window. “That’s one way,” she admitted as she followed Buffy through the wreaked window.

Finding themselves in a room that looked as if it had been set up as a classroom, Buffy and Kennedy made their way between the desks towards the door only to see it open in front of them. Light flooded into the darkened classroom as one of the Children entered the room to investigate the sounds of breaking glass. He looked from the garden gnome lying on the floor to the smashed in window.

Without hesitating, Buffy stepped forward and grabbed the youth, muscles that were made to fight vampires and other fiends from hell hardly noticed any resistance as she snapped the boy’s neck. Letting the body fall to the ground she stepped out into the corridor. Right behind her, Kennedy stepped over the dead body.

“One down,” she whispered, “fifty-nine to go!”

“Which way?” Buffy turned to Kennedy.

“You’re asking me?” Kennedy looked up and down the corridor; Buffy had a point after all she’d gone to school in a place like this. “Okay, dormitories will be upstairs along with tutor’s offices and student common rooms. Down stairs will be labs, classrooms and admin stuff. I’d guess everyone will be down here...hey!” Kennedy had just had what she thought was a good idea, “Instead of killing them one by one, why don’t we just burn the place down?"

“What if they try and escape?” Buffy pointed out reasonably.

“We just wait outside and kill them as they come out,” Kennedy was liking her idea more and more; Buffy stood and thought about it for a moment.

“Good plan,” she finally said after thirty seconds or so, “how do we start the fire?”

“There’ll be cooking oil in the kitchens,” Kennedy pointed out in an excited whisper, “we can use that.”

“Good!” Buffy started to move; she stopped after a couple of yards and turned to look at Kennedy once more, “Kitchens?”

“I don’t know,” Kennedy shrugged, “back of the building maybe?”

“Okay,” Buffy closed her eyes imagining how the Grange had looked from outside; they’d come in through a side window, the front door was to their right so the back was… “Okay follow me.”

Creeping off along the corridor they turned a corner and walked straight into a group of six of the Children. Buffy slashed the edge of her hand across the throat of the first youth she came to collapsing the girl’s windpipe. Kennedy punched a boy in the chest so hard that his ribs broke and punctured his heart. Stepping over the bodies and not giving the remaining Children time to react or call for help, Buffy snapped the neck of another boy while Kennedy kicked the legs from under another child. Stamping down on the boys neck she crushed his windpipe while at the same time breaking his spine. Although they had both attacked quickly and without mercy, when they looked up to acquire their next targets Buffy saw the surviving girl run away down the corridor while the last boy stood a few feet away looking at her in terror.

“Get the girl!” Buffy called to Kennedy as she advanced on the boy.

Aware of Kennedy thundering down the corridor after the girl, Buffy moved into killing range. She launched a kick at the boy’s head aiming to catch him on the temple and shatter his skull where it was thinnest. As her leg came round she felt herself being picked up and hurled against the wall.

“OOPH!” the air was forced out of Buffy’s lungs as she landed on the floor, “What the hell?” she gasped as she started to climb back to her feet.

Just as she was about to launch another attack, Buffy felt herself fly through the air, this time she crashed into the ceiling. Floating above the corridor, she looked down at the boy. He was no longer looking at her in terror; he was just standing there watching her impassively his eyes not leaving hers.

0=0=0=0

Catching up to the girl, Kennedy clamped her hands on the girl’s chin and the back of her head; she twisted and pushed in one sharp ninety-degree turn to the left. There was a momentary fibrous resistance followed by a sharp sound like an old stick breaking. Letting the limp body fall to the ground, she smiled. Assuming Buffy had killed the boy she told herself that they now only had fifty-three of the evil alien space brats to deal with. Turning back the way she’d come, Kennedy stopped in shock as she saw Buffy floating up near the ceiling.

Magic! 

This was Kennedy’s first thought; she’d seen Willow do something like this when a young slayer had gone berserk during a training session; she knew that if she could distract the boy his control on Buffy would lessen. Picking up a nearby fire extinguisher she heaved it at the youth. The big, red, water filled cylinder smashed into the boy’s head shattering his skull and painting the wall behind him with blood; Buffy crashed in a heap onto the floor. 

“Ow!” Buffy moaned as she climbed slowly to her feet, “What the hell? That was totally unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Kennedy pulled Buffy upright, “looks like they’re not so helpless as we thought.”

“You’re not wrong,” Buffy agreed as she hobbled along the corridor next to Kennedy, “sooner we burn the place down the better…CRAP!”

Looking from Buffy to the corridor in front of her Kennedy saw six more of the Children just standing there. They were too far away to attack without first running the length of the passageway.

“BACK!” Buffy called as she turned to find herself facing another six of the Children; why always six, a part of Buffy’s brain asked.

Trapped between the two groups of Children, Kennedy decided that it was time to regroup and think up a better plan. Willow had floated her once or twice during their love ‘games’. She’d always been gentle and careful of how she’d brought her lover back down to earth. Kennedy had the distinct feeling the Children wouldn’t be gentle or indeed careful. Spotting the window a few feet away, she launched herself at it; there was a crash of breaking glass and splintering wood and Kennedy found herself out in the cold damp air once again.

Rolling on the wet grass, she bounced to her feet and sprinted across the unkempt lawn towards the wall. It was only as she was half way over the wall that she realised Buffy wasn’t with her. Pausing for a moment she scanned the darkened grounds for any sign of Buffy, there was none. Dropping to the ground, Kennedy ran silently back towards the village; she needed a new plan and weapons.

0=0=0=0


	8. Chapter 8

8.

A fitful drizzle made fuzzy haloes around the street lights as Kennedy walked back to the village. Standing on the corner where the lane to the Grange met the road around the village green, Kennedy watched and waited. She waited to see if anyone was going to come out and challenge her, but so far there was no sign of the villagers or the Children. In fact everything looked as it should be for a small English village at, she looked at her watch, nearly midnight.

Leaving her hiding place in the midnight shadows, Kennedy walked briskly towards the Parcel of Rogues. Buffy had almost certainly been captured by the Children, she felt sure that the older slayer was still alive, surely she’d have felt something if the alien brats had killed her. Whatever, she sighed as she walked towards the pub, she had to go back destroy the Children and if at all possible rescue Buffy. This thought made her wonder for a moment; wouldn’t it have been more natural to put rescuing Buffy first? She shrugged; she’d have to think about that later, now there were more important things to worry about.

Finding the front door to the pub open, Kennedy cautiously walked into the hallway next to the bar. Someone had switched the lights back on, looking along the downstairs passageway and into the bar she could see no sign of anyone lying in wait for her. There were no sounds of human activity either. Perhaps Mrs Harrington, exhausted from her attempts at slayer-cide, had retired to bed. Time was wasting, so she ran lightly up the stairs to the room she’d shared with Buffy.

Here the door was wide open, walking into the little room she noticed that there was nothing to show for the fight except for a chair that lay on its side. Pushing the door closed, Kennedy started to strip off her damp clothes. Hoping around on one leg as she removed her damp jeans, she looked for her mobile phone. Hurling her clammy clothes into the corner of the room, she gave a small cry of joy as she spotted her phone lying on the floor next to the bed. Snatching up the device she speed dialled Willow’s number, put the phone on speaker and placed it on the dressing table as she searched out her ‘fighting clothes’.

“Hello?” Willow’s voice sounded confused and tired.

“Willow, honey,” Kennedy smiled at the sound of her girlfriends voice, “listen very carefully I shall say this only once,” rolling her eyes at herself, Kennedy wondered at the effect British TV was having on her.

“Yeah okay,” Willow sounded a little more awake now.

“Look, you know that mission Mr Giles sent us on?”

“Yeah, sure,” Willow now sounded wide awake, “what about it?”

“Here’s the short version,” Kennedy took a deep breath, “Children; not demons, aliens, mind control and telekinesis, they’re using the villagers to attack us and Buffy’s been captured.

“W-what!” Willow sounded flustered, “Hold on, you’re saying Buffy’s been captured by mind controlling alien space-children with the power of telekinesis?” there was a long pause as Willow processed all this, “How?”

“We went to this Grange place were the space-brats live,” Kennedy explained as she pulled her black roll neck sweater over her head. “It all went wrong we didn’t know the space-brats could do the whole mind moving stuff. Buffy got caught and I managed to jump out a window and escape.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Willow’s voice had gone hard at the news of Buffy’s capture.

“NO!” Kennedy grabbed the phone and put it to her ear, “So far the only people who can’t have their minds controlled are Buffy and me. I don’t know whether it’s because we’re slayers or if it’s something else we share.”

“Oh, yeah, I see,” Willow sounded thoughtful but no less determined to help, “what do you want me to do?”

“Look I need access to my father’s warehouse,” Kennedy explain rapidly, “and I need something to stop this tele-stuff.”

“The warehouse I can do,” Willow sounded as if she was thinking very hard, “but stopping telekinesis…I don’t think you can.”

“Damn,” Kennedy put the phone down again and finished dressing.

“If it was magic I’d be able to help,” Willow sounded depressed at not being able to aid her lover. “But…look telekinesis, magical or natural, is usually line of sight stuff, understand?”

“I think so,” Kennedy replied as she buckled her boots up.

“Basically if they can see you they can attack you,” Kennedy could hear the smile in Willow’s voice, she’d thought of something. “I’ve got something that’ll make you ‘unseen’. It’s not exactly invisibility, it just makes it so they can’t actually look at you…I confiscated off Xander a few years ago. He was planning to use it to ‘guard’ the girl’s locker room at school.”

“Eww,” Kennedy stood up and picked up the phone again, “by the way,” she added, “I’ll need to actually get into the warehouse, reaching in just won’t cut it, you can do that, right?”

“Sure,” Willow agreed, “but it’ll take more power, as soon as you get back the portal will shut, okay?”

“Not a problem,” Kennedy smiled down the phone, “have I told you recently you’re the best witch a girl could ever dream of having?”

“I knew it,” Kennedy could almost see the pout on Willow’s face, “you only love me for my magic.”

“Hey, look,” Kennedy laughed, “When I get home I’ll show you some of my own magic, okay?”

“Promise?” Willow asked hopefully.

“Promise,” Kennedy blew a kiss down the phone, “look I’ve got to go,” she said sadly, “First, last and only line of defence against the worst scum of the universe, you know?”

“Yeah,” Willow replied quietly, “look, I’ve sent the pendent, that’ll stop them seeing you…”

“You sure it’ll work?”

“Hey!” Willow sounded put out at Kennedy’s doubt, “That’s super-Willow-magic, trust me it’ll work.”

“With my life,” Kennedy reassured her.

“Okay,” Willow got back to business again, “once you’ve got the pendent the portal will skip to the warehouse.” There was a long pause before Willow spoke again, “You be careful, okay?”

“Always,” agreed Kennedy.

“Love you.”

“Love you more,” the phone went dead in Kennedy’s hand.

Walking over to the wardrobe, Kennedy took out her travel bag and reached inside. When she brought her hand out again she found herself holding the pendent. It was shaped like an arrow head but made out of some sort of polished red stone with flecks of silver running through it. A hole had been bored in the base of the stone and a thick silver chain had been threaded through it. Kennedy slipped it over her head and waited for something to happen, nothing did so she shrugged and placed her bag on the floor. Getting down on her hands and knees, she stuck her head into the bag and started to wriggle forward like someone climbing through a narrow hole. After only a few seconds Kennedy’s feet disappeared into the bag and the room was empty.

0=0=0=0

Sitting on the edge of the bed she normally shared with Kennedy, Willow placed her phone on the nightstand; she looked sadly at Kennedy’s empty half of the bed. When she’d been with Tara they’d been able to face the dangers together. They’d been stronger together than when they were apart. The ‘badness’ never seemed so bad then. Now she was with Kennedy there were so many times they couldn’t face danger together, it made her feel helpless.

“Goddess,” Willow looked up at the ceiling, “I can’t be with Kennie right now, so…so will you look out for her for me and bring her safe home?”

Not waiting for a reply, Willow picked up her phone again and pressed the button to speed dial Giles.

0=0=0=0

Waking up on a cold hard floor, Buffy moved and heard the familiar sound of chains rattling. Sitting up she felt her head start to throb worse than her worse ever hangover, the thought of hangovers made her wish she had a drink; she stamped down viciously on the thought. Even without opening her eyes she could tell she was chained to a wall, the chains felt pretty substantial on her wrists, they’d take some breaking.

Deciding it was time to see what was going on she opened her eyes and quickly closed them again. The room she was in had been painted white and the lights were too bright, way too bright. Carefully, Buffy cracked open her eyes letting a little light in until she felt comfortable opening them all the way. When she did she saw a large room, filled with what looked like lab equipment and…exercise machines? There was one heavy looking door at the opposite end of the room; there were no windows but there were what looked like air ducts.

Standing just out of Buffy’s reach, stood David Zellaby, he looked down at her with his golden eyes. Buffy shifted her position so she was leaning against the wall behind her. David’s silent examination of her made her feel uneasy, surely he should be gloating in true super-villain style by now. Instead he just stood there, his face bereft of all emotion. He looked a little like someone who’d found a new but not very interesting bug.

“Good,” his voice was as flat and emotionless as his eyes were blank. “I was beginning to think we’d damaged you too much and you’d never wake up. That would have been inconvenient.”

“So it speaks,” Buffy tried to sound unimpressed and succeeded, but she needn’t have bothered for all the effect it had on David.

“You are different from the other humans,” David began.

“Oh I try for my own style,” Buffy quipped but was ignored by the youth.

“You are stronger, faster more…advanced…”

“And don’t forget prettier,” Buffy added.

“…plus your mind appears more developed…”

“I wish you’d been there to tell my principal that at high school,” Buffy frowned, her interruptions didn’t seem to be putting the kid off one little bit.

“…we have been unable to control you or your associate’s mind.”

“Associate?” Buffy pursed her lips, “Like, Kennedy’s going to be so pissed if she hears you’ve called her my ‘associate’,” Buffy sneered up at the teenager. “Oh, and that’s another thing, she’ll be back to get me, she’d never miss an opportunity to get one over on me by rescuing me.”

“Good,” David said flatly.

“Good?” Buffy’s eyebrows went up in surprise; she was truly shocked at the boy’s reaction, or lack of reaction, “You actually want to face two mightily pissed off slayers? We killed seven of you and we weren’t even trying!”

“Yes,” David stared at the wall above Buffy’s head for a moment, “interesting…we need to know your abilities, discover what you are capable of. We’ll want to know how many of you there are, where you are based and so on.”

“You think I’m gonna tell you all that?” Buffy laughed in the youth’s face, “Like, no way.”

The door at the far end of the room opened to admit one of the village children. It was a girl aged between five or six dressed in a red waterproof jacket and yellow Wellington boots. She walked up to Buffy and looked down at her with dead eyes before turning and walking over to the wall on Buffy’s right. For a moment she stood facing the wall and then slowly, deliberately she started to smash her head against the wall.

“NO!” Buffy screamed realising what was happening, “STOP IT!”

Straining against her chains, Buffy tried to reach David, but he was just too far away for her to reach or even kick. The dull thumping of the girl’s head hitting the wall continued as Buffy looked on helplessly.

“Make her stop!” Buffy begged, “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

The sound of the girl’s head hitting the concrete wall turned from a thumping sound to more of a wet squelching noise as the girl slid down to the floor leaving a wide trail of blood and brains on the wall until she lay still and lifeless on the floor.

“You bastard,” Buffy snarled through clenched teeth.

“That was an object lesson,” David informed her with no more emotion than if he’d just swatted a fly, “if you resist us in any way or we catch you in a lie another child will die.”

“You are so dead,” Buffy spat the words as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“As you would say,” David glanced at the child’s body, “‘whatever’.”

0=0=0=0

Picking herself up off the floor, Kennedy dusted off her hands and knees and looked around the darkened warehouse. The few security lights provided more than enough illumination for her to gauge where she was. Turning to her right she started to walk briskly towards the back of the building.

It was over a year ago when the slayer organisation had been in dire financial striates; Kennedy’s father had bought the entire Saltburn site off Buffy (giving the organisation a much needed injection of cash). He’d rented part of the site back to Buffy at a nominal fee and bulldozed the rest of it flat. On the cleared area he’d had an office-warehouse built and a secure truck park. This became the headquarters for the European branch of his Import/Export business with Kennedy as its CEO.

After less than a minute’s walking, Kennedy came to the secure area of the warehouse. Punching in the code to the gate in the chain-link fence, she walked through into the area beyond. Stopping for a moment she looked around, then seeing what she wanted she marched over to the long, neatly stacked boxes with, ‘Agricultural Tools’ painted on the side over the yellow Chinese pictographs.

Flipping open the catches, Kennedy reached inside and pulled out one of the AK47’s that lay there. The weapon had already had its wax paper wrapping removed and the preservation wax cleaned off. She worked the bolt and listened to the smooth *click-clack* as the bolt moved backwards and forwards. Smiling she picked up half a dozen empty magazines. Finding her hands full, she hung the rifle over her shoulder before going in search of the boxes of ammunition that lay right at the back of the secure area.

A couple of minutes later she was heading back to where she’d left her bag, arms full of spare magazines, rifle and box of two-hundred rounds. As she walked her eyes fell on another lower stack of long boxes, she recognised the code number which made her smile again. As she’d told Buffy, she wasn’t a genius like Willow, but she had a very good memory. Dumping her first load back at the bag she trotted over to the second set of boxes.

Flipping open the catches and opening the lid, Kennedy chuckled quietly. Her family name of ‘Scarpone’ had always been slightly embarrassing to her; people always just jumped to conclusions about her and her family. Okay, so the conclusions were right, but no one wanted to be taken for granted. Lifting the RPG launcher out of its box, Kennedy felt a shiver of pleasure pass through her body; it was almost like when Willow touched her but not quite so intense.

“Oh,” Kennedy whispered, “you bastards are soooo dead,” she cocked and dry fired the launcher to ensure it was in working order; then she looked around at the piles of crates, “Now where are the rockets?” 

Not so long ago she’d beaten herself up for carelessly not packing a rocket launcher to kill the monster; she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

0=0=0=0


	9. Chapter 9

9.

By the time Kennedy got back to Midwich it had stopped raining, she looked out of the window to see no sign of the night’s earlier slayer-cidal villagers. Shrugging she dismissed the villagers; she could worry about them once she got Buffy back. Turning back to face the bed, she ripped open the box of ammunition and started to empty the packets of bullets onto the bedspread. Kneeling on the floor she began to fill empty magazines, strong slayer thumbs and fingers loaded the banana shaped magazines at an inhumanly fast speed. A few minutes work gave her six fully loaded magazines and two spare packets of rounds. Standing up she slipped on her black denim jacket before fitting a magazine into her rifle.

“Darn!” she muttered crossly as she realised she’d nowhere to put the spare magazines.

Looking around the room he eyes fell on Buffy’s shoulder bag, snatching it up from the floor where it lay she emptied the contents onto the bed, stuffed the five spare magazines into it then put the strap over her shoulder. Satisfied that the bag hung in the right position for her to easily get at the magazines, Kennedy picked up the carrier that held the three spare RPG rockets and slung it on her back. Rolling her shoulders she got the carrier comfortable after adjusting the straps and slung her rifle over her left shoulder before picking up the RPG with its already loaded rocket. After one final glance around the room to check she’d got everything and Kennedy marched out of the door along the corridor and out into the night. 

Deciding that it was probably best to stay hidden, it would just be her luck for the police to turn up and arrest her, Kennedy took to the fields and made her way to the Grange across country. After fighting her way through several hedges and jumping over a couple of water filled ditches she came to the lane that led to the Grange. Squaring her shoulders and resting the launcher on her right shoulder as she’d see insurgents do on the news she crunched up the track towards the Grange.

As she walked a thought suddenly occurred to her; why hadn’t the Children been out to try and stop her? Surely they couldn’t believe that she’d just go away leaving Buffy in their hands. But, maybe they did, they’d seemed an emotionless bunch from what little contact she’d had with them. So, perhaps they did think that she’d just go away and leave Buffy to her fate. Kennedy paused in her advance; to be honest ‘going for help’ would at first glance be the most sensible thing to do. 

Get more slayers down here, do a proper assault instead of this 'Rambo' like plan she’d half worked out. But then…but then she’d not be able to beat Buffy with the stick of having saved her life single-handedly! Much more satisfying than sharing the glory with a bunch of pimply faced girls and middle-aged housewives who made up the ranks of the slayer organisation these days. No, Kennedy smiled to herself as she moved on, Buffy was going to have to be eternally grateful to her for coming to her rescue.

Reaching the pillars at the bottom of the drive that led to the Grange, Kennedy sighed a sigh of relief on seeing the gates were open. So, she had slayer strength but the rockets, launcher and rifle were still heavy and more importantly cumbersome, she’d not been looking forward to climbing the gate with all her equipment.

Leaning against one of the pillars she carefully ran her eyes over the Grange. Only a few upstairs lights were on now and the place looked almost deserted. Smiling evilly, Kennedy took the safety cap from off the end of the rocket and set the weapon snugly on her shoulder, she’d soon wake them up. The Grange was only about one-hundred-and-fifty yards away so she hardly needed to use the sights. It was lucky that she didn’t otherwise she’d have missed the figure walking across the lawn towards the building.

0=0=0=0

_Has the location of the remaining slayer been determined?_ David Zellaby’s thoughts flowed out to the rest of the collective.

Without realising it, as the situation with the slayers had developed, he’d taken on the role of ‘leader’ something that was unheard of in the history of the Collective.

 _She appears to have vanished,_ the thoughts from the surviving members of the collective came to him like shafts of coloured light. _However,_ the thoughts continued, _the proximity of the captured slayer is hindering our ability to search._

Glancing over to where the captive sat chained to the wall, David frowned without realising he’d done so.

 _A group must leave the Grange and go to a location where they are unaffected by the interference caused by the captive, scan for the other slayer from there._ Feeling six of the collective separate themselves from the whole he turned all his attention back to Buffy.

“How many slayers are there in total and what are their locations?” David asked the sooner the interrogation was completed and the slayer destroyed the safer he’d feel.

0=0=0=0

“Professor Zellaby,” Kennedy came up silently behind the man and touched him on the shoulder.

“AAAGH!” The academic screamed as he turned about to face Kennedy.

“Sorry,” Kennedy couldn’t help smirking a little at the scholar’s reaction, she noticed Zellaby eyeing the weapons that hung all over her.

“I see you had the same idea as I,” Zellaby explained as he removed his jacket to expose the explosive vest he was wearing.

“Cool,” Kennedy couldn’t help admiring the workmanship that’d gone into making the vest and the obvious bravery of the man who was willing to sacrifice himself. “Timer?” Kennedy pointed to the red flashing readout on the vest, Zellaby nodded, “Dead-man’s switch?” Again Zellaby nodded, “Cool,” Kennedy repeated, “but I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to use such drastic measures and anyway,” she added with a smug smile, “I’ve got to rescue Buffy.”

“Then,” Zellaby pointed over to the Grange, “may I suggest we begin?”

Following Zellaby’s pointing finger, Kennedy saw half a dozen of the Children leave the building from a side door and head off across the lawn.

“Bugger!” Kennedy whispered as she dropped her rocket launcher and unslung her rifle.

The Children didn’t seem to notice either of the adults as they walked away from the building. Kennedy brought the rifle to her shoulder. Cocking the weapon she noticed one of the Children turn and look in her direction.

“Too late alien scum!” she announced coldly just before pulling the trigger.

The AK burst into life in her hands making that distinctive sound known all over the world. Kennedy’s economical burst brought all six children to the ground as the heavy 7.62mm bullets ripped into their bodies. Lowering her weapon, she noticed one of the youths still moving, a single shot stilled the survivor forever.

“That’s torn it,” Kennedy announced in true comic book fashion; swapping the rifle for the launcher she turned, shouldered the weapon and fired her first missile into the side of the building.

There was a terrific *Whoosh!* followed by a very loud bang as the rocket’s warhead blasted a hole in the side of the Grange.

“YES!” Kennedy jumped into the air waving the launcher above her head in celebration; coming back down to earth both literally and figuratively she noticed the look on Zellaby’s face. “Sorry,” she wasn’t really she was too hyped up, “slayer see? I can’t help it, I was born to kill...and be pretty.”

Quickly she set about reloading her launcher.

0=0=0=0

“How the hell should I know?” Buffy snapped at David.

“You must know,” David replied calmly, “how else can you direct whatever operations that are conducted by your organisation?”

“That’s not how it works,” Buffy tried to explain, “everything started out in such a mess it’ll take us years to get properly organised.

“I think you are lying,” David watched her with his dead fish eyes, “I read the thoughts in my ‘father’s’ mind, I know the slayer organisation has been in existence for centuries.”

“Then you’ve got it wrong, alien-boy,” Buffy replied happy with her minor victory, “your old dad musta lied to you.”

“No, that is impossible,” David glanced towards the lab door as it slowly swung open, “no normal human mind can resist us for more than a few minutes. It is more likely that you are lying. You obviously require another lesson in our determination to uncover the truth.”

A girl aged about twelve walked into the lab as if she was sleep walking.

“NO!” Screamed Buffy straining against her chains.

“We chose all females,” David informed her, “believing you would find it easier to empathise with your victims.”

“NO!” Buffy pleaded helplessly, “I really don’t know the answers you want!”

“I do not believe you,” David watched as the village girl walked up to Buffy.

“YOU BASTARDS!” Buffy screamed as the girl knelt on the floor in front of her and calmly started to beat out her brains on the concrete floor. “WHEN I GET FREE I’M GONNA RIP YOUR FUCKING HEART OUT!”

Collapsing on the floor, Buffy closed her eyes and tried to block out the sound of the girl’s head hitting the floor. It was then she heard the sharp staccato sound of what sounded like gunfire. David must have heard it too because his head snapped up and around seemingly looking right through the building, moments later there was a loud bang and dust started to fall from the ceiling.

“You’re so dead, motherfucker,” Buffy’s voice was low and quiet with menace, “I told you Kennedy would come for me.”

Glancing back at Buffy, David used his mind to smash her into the wall several times until he thought she was either dead or unconscious. Leaving the village girl still beating her head against the floor he turned and rapidly walked out of the lab.

0=0=0=0

*WHOOSH!* the rocket streaked away from the launcher and slammed into the Grange. This time the rocket burst through the brick work and exploded inside smashing out all the windows on the ground floor. The rocket’s red glare lit up Kennedy’s face with a ruddy glow making her look like some fiend escaped from hell.

“GOTCHA!” Kennedy cheered, looking down at the carrier that lay on the grass she noticed with a certain amount of disappointment there were only two rockets left. Reloading she shouldered the launcher and sent the next rocket streaking towards the upstairs area. There was a bang and the sound of breaking glass, Kennedy pouted in disappointment.

“That wasn’t very spectacular,” she felt slightly let down, “Oh-well, one more to go.”

Just as she was sliding the last rocket into the launcher she noticed a group of the Children run around the corner from the rear of the building. Dropping the launcher, she picked up the AK again and fired from the hip. The rounds ripped up the ground all around the little group of children as they twisted and fell under the hail of lead sent in their direction. Swapping her magazine for a full one Kennedy decided that the time for fun was over; she turned to look at the stunned figure of Zellaby.

“Don’t blow yourself or anything else up until I’ve found Buffy, okay?” she ordered sternly, it was only then that a thought struck her.

Zellaby was looking right at her, he could see her as could the Children just before she’d gunned them down.

“Damn it,” she muttered angrily as she strode towards the house, Willow’s charm thing obviously wasn’t working. Using her left hand, Kennedy pulled the pendant out from under her jacket, perhaps it had to be exposed to the air for it to work, Kennedy was willing to give it a try. Gripping her rifle tightly she climbed in through a hole in the wall and into the still smouldering office beyond.

0=0=0=0

Waking up the first sight to greet Buffy’s eyes was the body of the girl, she was hunched over her head resting against the floor surrounded by a large pool of blood. Blinking the tears of frustration from her eyes and getting unsteadily to her feet she took hold of one of her restraints and set her foot against the wall; she heaved with all her might. There was a crunching, ripping noise as the bolts connecting the chains to the wall came free. With a final tug the bolts shot from the wall and Buffy stood panting as she recovered from her efforts.

“One down,” she gasped, “one to go.”

0=0=0=0

_What is happening?_ David demanded as he climbed up the stairs from the basement. Images flooded into his mind as he saw the last thing that the dead members of the collective had seen. He saw the other slayer turn her weapon towards him, he saw the bright flash of the muzzle blast and felt the bullets ripping through his body then all he saw was darkness.

 _Destroy her,_ David ordered.

 _We are trying but she has vanished,_ came the answering thought; and as he listened to the collective’s thoughts he noticed the number of minds got less and less as the sound of automatic fire got closer and closer. Hesitating for only an instant, David turned and walked back down into the basement. If they were going to die then Buffy Summers would die with them.

0=0=0=0

Turning a corner, Kennedy came face to face with three of the Children. Preventing herself from firing she took a moment to study them. It was only then that she noticed the youths where looking everywhere but directly at her. Smiling, Willow’s do-dad must be working, she pulled the trigger and watched in satisfaction as the bullets chopped her victims into bloody ruin.

Stepping over the bodies, Kennedy marched on like some sort of female ‘Terminator’ occasionally firing short bursts at the Children as they blundered into her path. If Buffy was being held anywhere, she reasoned, tradition determined that it would be in some sort of underground lab. Hardly pausing to gun down another of the alien filth, Kennedy went in search of the evil alien’s underground lair.

“It must be somewhere ‘round here,” she told herself as she swapped her empty clip for another full one.

0=0=0=0

Bursting into the lab, David was shocked to see the space by the wall where Buffy had been chained completely devoid of prisoner. He was even more surprised as a length of chain snaked out from behind the door and hit him on the side of the head. Falling to the ground he raised his hand to his head, it came away bloody. Looking up he saw Buffy winding up her chains before bringing them crashing down on his head.

Throwing Buffy across the room with his mind, David climbed to his feet and watched in satisfaction as the slayer lay groaning on the floor. He lifted her intending to smash her head into the ceiling and kill her once and for all. However something made him stop, Buffy floated in mid air as David tried to work out what he’d heard. The other slayer must have found her way down into the basement. Dropping Buffy onto the floor, he turned and ran out of the door. He had to save what he could of the colony; the slayers could be dealt with later.

0=0=0=0


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Picking herself up off the floor, Buffy groaned, “I’m getting too old for this.”

As she supported herself with one hand resting against the wall her eyes fell on the body of the girl left crouching on the floor in a pool of her own blood.

“Bastards,” Buffy swore under her breath, she had to kill all these alien scum before they could take over the world.

A burst of gunfire close by jarred her out of these thoughts of genocide. Someone, Buffy smiled, she thought she knew who, had obviously got the same idea. The door to the lab was slammed open nearly knocking it off its hinges.

“BUFFY!” came a familiar voice.

“Kennedy?” Buffy stared at the doorway, although her sister slayer’s voice sounded as if it was right there in the room with her she couldn’t see the gun totting slayer anywhere.

“Buffy?” Kennedy’s voice sounded as if it was right next to her ear; Buffy spun around but still she couldn’t see her rescuer, “You can’t see me can you?”

“No,” Buffy replied uncertainly.

“How about now?” suddenly Buffy found Kennedy standing right next to her.

“AAGH!” Buffy jumped away from the dark haired girl. “W-What…?”

“One of Willow’s trinkets,” Kennedy explained tucking the pendent under her jacket, “come on we’ve got to go.”

“First we have to find the rest of the village kids,” Buffy’s eyes flicked over to where the girl lay.

“Crap!” Kennedy cursed quietly; she noticed the chains still attached to Buffy’s wrists. “Right,” she agreed, “but first let me get those chains off.”

“Don’t bother,” Buffy lifted up her wrist, “I’ve tried they won’t move.”

“Here,” Kennedy took hold of Buffy’s wrist and did something to the shackle, moments later it fell to the floor.

“How’d you do that?” Buffy watched as Kennedy removed the other chain.

“There’s a secret catch,” Kennedy pressed with her fingers and the other metal cuff fell to the floor.

“How’d you know that?” Buffy asked suspiciously as they both moved towards the door.

“Um,” Kennedy looked slightly embarrassed, “its Willow…sometimes she likes to be, you know…restrained.”

“Willow?” Buffy stared wide eyed at Kennedy, “With chains?” Kennedy nodded in the affirmative, “Oh my god!”

“Don’t you ever say anything,” Kennedy warned.

“My lips are sealed,” Buffy reassured her.

“Kids?” Kennedy quickly changed the subject.

“They must be down here somewhere,” Buffy led the way further into the basement, “How were things going upstairs?”

“I think I’ve got about half of them,” Kennedy replied matter-of-factly, “and blown some big holes in the place.”

“I heard,” Buffy stopped outside a door and listened; she tried the door handle but it was locked, “They’re in there I think.”

Giving Buffy a superior look, Kennedy slid open a shutter in the door, she looked into the cell beyond to see a dozen girls of various ages.

“I’ll have to shoot the lock off,” she called through the hatch, the children looked up at her fearfully, “Everyone get away from the door and stick your fingers in your ears…no, your own ears!” Standing back from the door, Kennedy put her rifle to her shoulder, “Buffy?”

“What?” Buffy glanced at her comrade in arms.

“Unless you want me to shoot between your legs?” Kennedy gestured for Buffy to get out the way.

“Sorry,” Buffy moved to one side just as Kennedy fired a burst.

The bullets struck the door neatly cutting the lock free and sending it spinning across the floor. Heaving open the door, Buffy dashed into the cell and started to push the terrified and tearful children into the corridor.

“Come on kids,” she tried to keep her voice light so as not to frighten the children anymore than they were already, “let’s get you home to your folks.”

By the time Buffy got back out into passageway, she found Kennedy had organised the children into two’s, an older child holding the hand of a younger one.

“Okay, children,” Kennedy stood at the head of the column her rifle butt resting on her hip, “we’re going home now,” she told the kids in a sort of Mary Poppins type voice. “Stay behind me, no dawdling, don’t let go of your partner’s hand and no talking.” Kennedy’s eyes turned to a bemused Buffy Summers, “Auntie Buffy?”

“Auntie Buffy?” Buffy replied confused.

“Yes,” Kennedy replied pointedly, “would you mind bringing up the rear, make sure there’s no stragglers?”

“Sure,” Buffy nodded her head, “not a problem.”

Leading the children up the stairs and through the smoky interior of the Grange, Kennedy acted as if having to step over dead bodies was nothing unusual or anything to be worried about. Amazingly the children took their cue from her and followed her out into the night. Making sure that the last child was out of the building, Buffy came to stand next to Kennedy.

“That was amazing,” Buffy smiled.

“Simple child psychology,” Kennedy replied airily, “act as if there’s nothing to be scared of and the children will believe you.”

“Talking of scared,” Buffy pointed to where the villagers stood in a confused huddle at the bottom of the drive by the gate.

“They don’t look as if they’re going to rip us to pieces,” Kennedy pointed out unconvincingly.

“I think the control on their minds must have slipped,” Buffy slipped her arm through Kennedy’s arm and smiled into her face, “that’s thanks to you.”

“Do you mind?” Kennedy glanced down to where Buffy’s hand lay.

“Oh!” Buffy jumped away from Willow’s girlfriend, “Sorry!” Collecting her thoughts Buffy turned back to the Grange, “We’ve got to go in there and finish them off. I can still feel them.”

“No I’ve got to go,” Kennedy took a deep breath, “I’ve got the gun and the invisible pendant thing.”

“No.” Buffy replied firmly, “Rule sixteen ‘B’ quite clearly states; ‘One for all and all for one’, we go do it together.”

“Sixteen ‘B’?” Kennedy queried.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head firmly, “bottom of page twenty-seven…look it up if you don’t believe me. It’s non-negotiable like the one that says, ‘Don’t Die’.”

“Okay,” Kennedy sighed, she knew when she was beaten, “we’ll go together.”

“NO!” a male voice came from behind them; turning they saw Professor Zellaby, “I’ll finish this off, after all a lot of this is my fault.”

“WHAT!?” Buffy and Kennedy turned on the man.

“If I’d not been so naïve,” the old scholar replied tiredly, “I might have seen the danger sooner and been able to stop them before they got so powerful.”

“But…” Buffy stepped forward and took hold of the old man’s arm; she noticed the explosive vest for the first time.

“After all,” chuckled Zellaby, “I’ve come prepared…a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do…and all that.”

“Let him do it, Buffy,” Kennedy called.

“But…” Buffy looked from Zellaby to Kennedy and back again.

“Please,” pleaded the old professor.

Slowly Buffy let go of Zellaby’s arm.

“Thank-you,” Zellaby started to walk towards the building, he paused and turned to look at Buffy, “You better get everybody back; it’ll be quite a bang!”

Dumping her rifle and Buffy’s bag with the spare magazines, Kennedy herded a reluctant Buffy Summers and the children towards the villagers.

0=0=0=0

Walking into the Grange, Zellaby felt the minds of the remaining Children start to beat against his own.

“Must think of a brick wall,” he told himself as the picture of the wall above his fireplace came to his mind, “a brick wall.”

His steps faltered a little as the children concentrated their will against his. A little further, he told himself, he’d worked out previously where he needed to stand when he detonated the bomb.

“A brick wall,” he told himself again, but already he could see the cement start to powder and the bricks begin to move. “A brick wall,” sweat stood on his brow as he forced himself deeper into the building. “A wall…a wall,” he said over and over again as more bricks loosened and fell, “Wall…the wall…”

Suddenly Zellaby’s mind took on new strength as the words came to him from his memory, he smiled as he started to recite the words from the eighty’s pop-song.

“We don’t need no education,” with grammar like that ‘they’ obviously did! “We don’t need no thought control,” Zellaby smiled at the irony. “All in all it was all just bricks in the wall,” smiling Zellaby let go of the dead-man’s switch. “We won,” he taunted the children.

0=0=0=0

Watching as the flames leaped into the night sky, Buffy and Kennedy stood side by side and stared at the burning Grange. In the distance they could hear the sirens of the local Fire Brigade as they made their way along the narrow country lanes; they’d arrive way too late to save anything.

“Let’s go,” Buffy whispered into Kennedy’s ear.

They pushed their way through the crowd of stunned and confused villagers and walked back to the Parcel of Rogues, each lost in her own thoughts. Buffy wondered at how close the world had come to being taken over by the alien children. It’d been lucky that neither herself nor Kennedy had been affected by their mind control powers. Idly Buffy speculated if it was because they were both alcoholics…now that would be ironic.

As she walked next to Buffy, Kennedy scowled to herself wondering what Willow had bought to furnish their new house with. She wondered if it had been wise to give her girlfriend the use of one of her credit cards, she was devoted to Willow but…but she just didn’t trust her where interior design was concerned. Of the Children she hardly spared a second thought; they had won as she always knew they would. After all what chance had the alien losers had? She’d been there…and Buffy had helped…a little.

Arriving back at the pub, Kennedy led the way into the building and on into the bar, everything was still unlocked even the till. Walking behind the bar, Kennedy set up two glasses and poured a generous measure of vodka into each.

“There,” she pushed the glass towards Buffy, “you’ve earned it.”

Sitting down on a bar stool Buffy stared at the glass, not making any effort to pick it up; Kennedy came around the bar and sat down next to her.

“One drink isn’t going to hurt,” Kennedy explained, she still hadn’t made any move to touch her own.

“One is too many,” Buffy quoted the Demon Alcohol, “ten is never enough.”

“Scared?” Kennedy asked without any malice in her voice.

“No,” Buffy thought for a moment, “I just don’t think I need it any more,” she paused for a moment, “I really think I could be ‘fine again’ after all,” she jumped down off her stool, “Come on,” she smiled at Kennedy, “let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah,” Kennedy agreed leaving her own drink untouched, “I think I know what you mean.”

Slipping her arm around Kennedy’s waist, Buffy guided her towards the stairs.

“You know what you were saying about Willow earlier?” Buffy asked with an impish grin.

“Uh-huh,” Kennedy grunted non-committally.

“Do you do the whole ‘spanking thing’ too?”

“Not that its any business of yours what Willow and I do in the privacy of our bedroom,” Kennedy glanced at Buffy as they started to climb the stairs together. “But yes, sometimes, Willow likes to be spanked.”

“And tied up?” Buffy asked breathlessly.

“YES!” Kennedy stopped and turned on Buffy, “What’s wrong with you? Why do you suddenly want to know about what Willow and I get up to and what’s with all the in appropriate touching!?”

“I…I’m…” Buffy brow furrowed as she tried to think what had come over her, “I’m not sure,” she took a deep breath, “I don’t know why but I suddenly feel kinda attracted to you…”

“Attracted?” Kennedy asked slowly.

“Yeah,” Buffy admitted sheepishly, “in like a sorta sexual way…”

“You’re sleeping on the floor tonight!” Kennedy turned and quickly climbed the stairs.

“What!” Buffy ran after her, “Why do I have to sleep on the floor?”

“Because, Buffy Summers,” Kennedy stopped, turned and glared down at Buffy, “if you try to get into bed with me I’ll kill you!”

“Oh,” Buffy shrugged, “that sounds reasonable enough,” she followed Kennedy up the stairs her eyes riveted to Kennedy’s butt. “When you say ‘in bed’, what exactly do you mean? Like is that just ‘in’ the bed or is lying on top of it okay?”

0=0=0=0

Dawn broke to find Buffy and Kennedy in bed together, Kennedy lay on her back with Buffy’s arm thrown across her chest and stared at the ceiling. What have I done, she asked herself, how did this happen?

“Oh god!” Buffy woke up and looked into Kennedy’s eyes, “I’m sorry! I…”

“You don’t know what happened?” Kennedy swung her legs out of bed and sat up with her back to Buffy. Oh-god, she moaned internally, I’m naked; she glanced over her shoulder, so was Buffy.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Buffy asked as she climbed from the bed and started to search for her clothes.

“We argued on the stairs,” Kennedy said slowly, “we got to the room, I opened the door and…”

“And?” Buffy encouraged.

“And everything gets a bit blurry after that,” Kennedy sighed heavily, “You?”

“About the same,” Buffy found her panties and pulled them on; she started to look for her bra.

“Did it all feel sort of unreal, dreamlike?” Kennedy wrapped the bed sheet around herself and went in search of her own clothes.

“Sorta,” Buffy found her bra hanging from the light fitting, “what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we might have been effected by something those alien scum did after all,” Kennedy shuffled across the floor to where her travel bag lay and started to pull clean clothes out of it.

“Hey,” Buffy frowned as Kennedy laid out a complete and clean set of clothes, “just how much stuff can you get outta that thing?”

“This?” Kennedy gestured to the bag, “Its actually the entry to a portal that leads to my clothes closet at home…Willow set it up for me, where did you think I got the AK from?”

“You keep assault weapons in your closet?” Buffy was impressed.

“Um no,” Kennedy shook her head, “look I’ll explain later more important things right now.”

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head, “you think the alien space brats turned me into a lesbian?”

“Could be,” Kennedy agreed, “have you ever felt attracted to women before?”

“No,” Buffy said firmly.

“There you are then,” Kennedy pulled on her panties without getting out of the sheet she was wearing, “it’s probably temporary. Willow will be able to reverse it I expect.”

“You mean after she’d turned us both into frogs?” Buffy looked seriously worried.

“Don’t worry,” after trying unsuccessfully to get her bra on while still holding onto the sheet; Kennedy turned her back on Buffy and let the sheet drop. “I’ll explain everything; she’ll be cool after all it wasn’t our fault.”

“You think?” Buffy didn’t sound so sure.

“Sure of it,” Kennedy replied earnestly.

“Cool,” Buffy sighed with relief and laughed, “HA! There was a moment back there when I thought we were in big trouble!”

0=0=0=0

**Slayer Central, Saltburn-by-the-Sea, Cleveland, England.**

“Giles!” Willow burst into Giles’ office; it was still early in the morning; far too early for Willow to be looking as worried as she was, “We’re in big trouble!”

“Oh-god!” Giles stood up reflexively from behind his desk his brow creased with worry, “More?”

”Fraid so,” Willow crossed the room in a couple of steps her skirts flying around her legs, “I’ve been phoning ‘round, its been happening all over the world.”

“Good grief!” Giles glasses came off in a flash and out came his handkerchief, “What I can’t understand is what could anyone hope to gain by doing this?”

“I don’t know Giles,” Willow started to play with the ends of her hair, “I’m not even sure that it is magic. I mean we know so little about slayer physiology, this could all be something natural.”

“No,” Giles slipped his glasses back on, “no, I think there’s some force behind all this,” a thought hit him. “Do you feel different…” Giles searched for the right words, “...do you, erm, still…”

“Do I still _like_ girls?” Willow arched an eyebrow, “Is that what you’re trying to say?” 

“Well, um, yes,” Giles coughed to cover his embarrassment, “as it happens yes.”

“Well, duh,” Willow had and urge to stick her tongue out at her old mentor but resisted it, “of course I do!”

“So its just the slayers then?” Giles asked quietly.

“Like you say,” Willow slumped into a chair, “what could anyone hope to gain by turning every slayer in the world gay?”

THE END?

0=0=0=0


End file.
